


Heaven on Their Nerves

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Annie Faulk, Bridon Gueermo - Freeform, Casey Miller - Freeform, Esther - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Jamal - Freeform, Jesus Christ Superstar - Freeform, Lola Thomas, M/M, Milly Larsen - Freeform, Nichole Daniels - Freeform, Recreational Drug Use, Red - Freeform, Ruby Tucker - Freeform, Senior year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-27 20:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 48,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8416270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wendy directs South Park High's musical, Jesus Christ Superstar.





	1. Overture

**Author's Note:**

> this is a c r a c k f i c

Her first mistake had been open auditions. Wendy recognized that now. In her defense, she really hadn’t expected _so many_ people to show up. Maybe it would have seemed more like a blessing than a curse if Kyle Broflovski and Eric Cartman weren’t locked in some stupid competition to see who could get a bigger role. It had started with another idiotic, overdone fight about whether or not Jews had rhythm and ended with Cartman heckling Nichole as she exited the stage blushing after belting out “It Won’t Be Long Now” from _In the Heights_.

“That was great, Nichole!” Wendy exclaimed encouragingly as Butters, dressed in all black complete with a jaunty beret to dig the final nail into his douchey coffin, shook his head dismissively. “Can we get Kenny next?”

Kenny jumped up from his seat next to Kyle and strode to the stage confidently. Wendy could only pray that his voice and acting were as solid as his confidence and good looks. He would be an excellent leading man.

“No heckling,” he warned with a pointed glare at Cartman, and Cartman rolled his eyes like he was shocked Kenny would even think so poorly of him.

Wendy nodded. “That’s a rule for all auditions, Cartman. Not just Kenny’s.” Cartman scoffed dismissively, but he sank down deeper into his seat.  Wendy flashed Kenny a quick smile. “Do Stan and Gary have your sheet music?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at the two boys. “It’s called “Epiphany”. _Sweeney Todd_. You got it?”

“If it’s Sondheim, we have it,” Gary responded with a winning smile. Kenny smirked back at him as the two of them flipped through a book of sheet music for Sondheim musicals. Gary scanned the lines, his brow furrowing with worry as he read the lyrics. “Okay, Kenny. We have it. Where do you want to start?”

Kenny clapped his hands. “Right here.”

“What measure, Kenny?” Stan asked with a sigh.

“Fifth bar,” Kenny responded automatically, absolutely shameless about his lack of knowledge of music theory. “The part that starts,” Kenny lowered his voice to a deep growl, “ _There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit, and it’s filled with people who are filled with shit_.”

Stan nodded along, trying to pick up where Kenny had started. After a few moments to collect themselves, he and Gary were able to back him on guitar and piano.

Wendy’s mouth parted in surprise as Kenny continued to growl out Sweeney’s words, making use of the entire stage. He hadn’t spent his youth traveling to get the best opera education possible for him _not_ to be better than every other senior boy. She stiffened as Kenny approached the edge of the stage.

“ _Alright! You, sir, how about a shave? Come and visit your good friend Sweeney. You sir, too sir? Welcome to the grave._ ” Kenny was grinning wickedly as he crept along the edge of the stage, making uncomfortably long eye contact with different audience members. He straightened his spine as he belted out the remainder of the song – “ _and my Lucy lies in ashes, and I’ll never see my girl again, but the work waits! I’m alive at last, and I’m full of joy!_ ”

Kenny practically roared the last line before he paused to collect himself. He gave Wendy another knowing smirk. “Looking forward to the cast list being posted.”

It took Wendy a second to collect herself before she managed to nod at Kenny in approval and call, “Tweek, you’re up. Bebe, you’re on deck.”

Tweek approached the stage with none of the confidence Kenny had demonstrated, and Wendy’s heart ached for that twitchy little darling. Why was he submitting himself to this? He must hate public speaking. There was no logical reason for his audition. Clyde and Token had joined him, but Craig wouldn’t touch musical theater with a 69-foot pole.

“Hair,” he choked out nervously to Stan. Wendy could barely hear Tweek, but Stan gave a quick nod and grabbed another book of musical theater sheet music.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Tweek took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the ground. In a voice much stronger than Wendy had expected, his clean tenor rang out in the theater, “ _She asks me why I’m just a hairy guy. I’m hairy noon and night. Hair that’s a fright._ ” Wendy thought she caught a little grin on Tweek’s face as Stan and Gary’s music began to pick up tempo.

In a change of demeanor Wendy had never anticipated, Tweek was flipping his hair around and strutting across the stage with the exact same confidence Kenny radiated every moment of his life. “ _Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees. Give a home to fleas in my hair. A home for fleas, a hive for bees, a nest for birds – there ain’t no words for the beauty, the splendor, the wonder of my hair. Flow it, show it. Long as God can grow it._ ”

Wendy barely even recognized that she and Butters were nodding along with Tweek’s audition until he had suddenly jumped off the stage and gripped the back of the chair in front of her, getting surprisingly close to Wendy’s face. “ _They’ll be gaga at the go go when they see me in my toga. My toga made of blonde, brilliant, biblical hair. My hair like Jesus wore it. Hallelujah, I adore it. Hallelujah, Mary loved her son._ ” Tweek took a deep breath to survey the theater and belted out, “ _Why don’t my mother love me?”_ to a roar of applause.

Kenny’s lip twitched involuntarily as Tweek finished the song and sank back into his previous level of anxiety. He hadn’t been expecting to be shown up by Tweek Tweak of all people, but now that he thought about it, he’d rather be shown up by Tweek than any other boy in school.

“Bebe,” Wendy called loudly, ignoring the rolled up sheet of paper Butters had handed her as a substitute megaphone. “Clyde, you’re on deck.”

Bebe bounced happily down the aisle, giving Tweek an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder as they past each other. She could barely contain her excitement as she demanded, “Let’s have The Miller’s Son. _A Little Night Music_.”

What Bebe lacked in vocal finesse, she made up for in choosing a song that suited her perfectly. She happily spun around the stage, singing about the loss of youth and pragmatic need for a supportive husband. Clyde’s rendition of “Hot Patootie (Bless My Soul)” from _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_ was exactly as dorky as she would have expected, and Bridon Gueermo singing “The Music of the Night” got her exactly as wet as she had expected.

 It wasn’t until Cartman lumbered onto the stage that he made his presence as toxic as it ever was. “Stan, may I have Kyle’s Mom Is a Bitch in D minor?” he asked sweetly, and Stan pinched his brow.

“I don’t think we have the sheet music for that, Eric,” Gary explained good-naturedly.

Cartman waved a hand so thick it looked like he was wearing an oven mitt. “I can do it _a capella_.”

Wendy pursed her lips. “We said songs from musicals, Cartman. Not songs you made up to bully Kyle.”

“Calm your tits, Wendy. This _is_ from a musical. I’m writing it myself. Can I sing my song?”

“Let Eric sing!” Butters demanded, hoping and failing to start a chant from the audience. Wendy rolled her eyes and waved for Cartman to continue.

Kyle turned redder and redder as Cartman proceeded with the song he had heard a million times since third grade, and when Cartman was finished, Kyle was out of his seat before DogPoo had a chance to stand up.

“You can go next,” Kyle snapped as he stormed up to the stage. Cartman was already heaving himself down the stairs, but Kyle gave his ass a kick for good measure. “ _Some_ of us don’t have to resort to petty insults.”

Kyle glanced to Stan, and Stan nodded knowingly. He murmured a few words to Gary, and the first few bars of Strangers Like Me filled the theater.

“Phil Collins!” Cartman exclaimed in dismay as Stan struggled to hide his laughter and focus on the song.

Kyle stood with perfect posture and feet planted firmly on the floor as he sang. He mimicked the voice of Phil Collins perfectly for one of the choruses, and Cartman covered his ears and groaned.

“ _I wanna know, can you show me? I wanna know about these strangers like me. Tell me more, please show me! Something’s familiar about these strangers like me._ ” He was smiling widely as he finished the song. “ _I wanna know_.”

“I never realized something could sound worse than Phil Collins himself.”

Kyle grinned at Cartman. “Really? Did you not hear that kid who was on stage before me?” He and Wendy exchanged brief nods of mutual respect, and DogPoo nervously maneuvered himself to the stage as Kyle hurried down the stairs.

“Can I go now?” He asked with a voice tinged with impatience, and Wendy giggled through her nod. “Do you have Being Alive by Stephen Sondheim?”

Stan snorted. “Yeah, we have the music for his most famous song.”

DogPoo gave him an unreadable stare as the music started. Maybe it was only unreadable because no one had ever paid enough attention to DogPoo to understand what his looks meant. He kept his eyes trained on his sneakers as he sang, but one-by-one everyone in the theater’s jaws dropped as his smooth baritone crashed over the audience.

“That was… really great, DogPoo,” Wendy murmured like she was surprised to be saying that. Butters looked astounded beyond words. “Um, Red, you ready to go? Heidi’s on deck.”

Red was eyeing DogPoo with newfound, predatory interest as she slipped onto the stage. She raised her chin proudly and demanded, “Rainbow High.”

Stan frowned at her. “Can I get a composer or musical?”

Gary patted his arm comfortingly and handed him a book. “It’s from _Evita_. Let us know when you’re ready, Red.”

The rest of the auditions passed without any standouts. Red proved she had the ability to live up to about 50% of her confidence, and Heidi’s rendition of I Say a Little Prayer for You was as sweet as Wendy had anticipated it being. Underclassmen she didn’t know as well were clearly overshadowed by the talents of Kenny, Tweek, DogPoo and Bridon. Finally, Token ambled up to the stage for the last audition.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you have the Oogie Boogie’s Song from _Nightmare Before Christmas_?”

“Yeah, we definitely have the sheet music for that,” Stan muttered sarcastically.

“I think I know the piano bits. My family likes to sing that musical every Halloween,” Gary supplied with a smile. “Want me to sing Santa’s bits for you?”

Token grinned and nodded, and Stan set his guitar to the side with a sigh as Gary began teasing a jazzy melody out of the piano, and Token braced himself to start. In a deep baritone Wendy had never anticipated coming out of his mouth, Token drawled, “ _Well, well, well. What have we here? Santa Claus, huh? Ooh, I’m really scared! So you’re the one everybody’s talking about_.” He threw his head back and cackled before continuing the song.

In the back, Tweek and Clyde were pumping their fists supportively as Token began vocalizing. “ _Well, if I’m feeling antsy and have nothing much to do, I might just cook a special batch of snake and spider stew. And don’t you know the one thing that would make it work so nice? A rolly polly Santa Claus to add a little spice_.”

Gary obediently sang Santa’s lines to the best of his memory, and Token mentally prepared himself for the crescendo. “ _Oh, the sound of rollin’ dice to me is music in the air ‘cause I’m a gambling Boogie Man although I don’t play fair. It’s much more fun I must confess with lives on the line. Not mine, of course, but yours, old boy, now that’d be just fine_.” He finished the song in a power stance as that deep voice continued to rumble out of him. “ _It’s hopeless. You’re finished. You haven’t got a prayer ‘cause I’m Mr. Oogie Boogie, and you ain’t going nowhere_.”

His shoulders slumped with relief when the song ended, and his friends burst into a loud round of applause that was slowly followed by the rest of the theater. Wendy gave him a delighted smile as he returned to his seat in between Clyde and Tweek. They had needed that voice.

Through his makeshift microphone, Butters boomed out, “The cast list will be posted on Friday. You can all leave so Wendy and I can deliberate.”

Wendy looked at him curiously. “I’m the director, Butters. You’re stage manager.” She paused and worried her bottom lip for a second. “You didn’t actually need to be here today.”

Butters shrugged as the actors began to file out of the theater, chattering loudly over one another. When it was just Wendy, Butters, Stan and Gary left in the theater, the four of them collected around Wendy’s seat.

“Everyone did such a great job!” Gary exclaimed enthusiastically, and Stan rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

Wendy smiled and nodded. “It’s a good batch. I have a list of parts right here. Where should we start?”

“Probably Jesus,” Butters piped up helpfully.

Stan smirked. “Well, let’s make sure we choose a white guy. I’d hate to offend anyone’s religion.”

Gary cast him a strange look, but he didn’t respond to the thinly veiled insult. “I think everyone can get behind Bridon for the role?”

“Bridon doesn’t want a lead role. It’ll conflict with basketball practice,” Stan responded automatically. “Plus, the lead role should be a senior.”

He craned his neck over to examine Wendy’s notes, and Wendy pulled them towards herself protectively. “Okay. What about DogPoo? I think he deserves some attention!”

“We need the leads to have friends so people will come see the show,” Stan said practically, and Wendy winced. “I thought the choice was pretty obvious.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Butters nodded in agreement. “Tweek is Jesus Christ Superstar.”

 

*

 

“I fucking told you that your character would kill Jesus.”

“You’re King Herod!”

“I’ll be an _amazing_ King Herod, Jew. Enjoy your pilates.”

“His name is Pilate, Fatass! For the amount of times you’ve tried to exterminate the Jews, I feel like you should know who he is.”

Cartman grinned and clapped Kyle on the shoulder. “What matters now, Kahl, is that we can kill Jesus _together_. Secret Jew handshake time?”

“I’m not doing a secret Jew handshake with you,” Kyle snarled as he stalked away from the cast list.

“Shalom, brother!” Cartman called after him before glancing around the hallway nervously to make sure no one could hear him.

 

*

 

Craig was in the cafeteria when the news hit him. He had been making fun of his friends for their plans to try out for the musical for weeks, but he hadn’t expected any of them to be serious about it. Was that what all those conversations they abruptly ended when Craig entered the room were about?

He didn’t have to wait for his friends to bring it up. He didn’t even need to check the cast list. Kenny fucking McCormick sidled up to their table and greeted Tweek with a quick kiss on the cheek. “Can’t wait to betray you with a kiss, J.C.” He batted his eyelashes sweetly at Craig and slid into the last open seat.

It was supposed to be Jimmy’s, but apparently it was Kenny’s now.

This musical was already ruining everything.

Tweek smiled humbly. “Yeah, it’ll be exciting. Clyde and Token did really well too!”

Kenny’s lip curled up as he eyed the other two boys. “I saw you were Caiaphas, Token. No surprises there. Who are you again, Clyde?”

“Peter,” he mumbled bitterly as he prodded his food with some expression of disgust.

Kenny cocked his head to the side. “You sound disappointed. Are you sad you didn’t get a lead?”

“He’s probably sad he’s in this musical at all,” Craig supplied disdainfully, but Clyde just shrugged his shoulders.

Kenny gave him a look of mock sympathy. “I’m sorry Tweek and I took the leads from you, Clyde.”

Craig flipped him off. “Did you just come here to rub in your role? You can hang out with them when they’re _forced_ to interact with you in rehearsals. That’s Jimmy’s fucking seat.”  

“Can he not just prop himself up on his crutches?”

Craig narrowed his eyes and leaned across the table to bring his face to Kenny’s. “I suggest you leave before I show you what it’s like to have your legs mangled.”

Kenny winked at him and stood up. “I’m pretty aware of how it feels,” he declared before bouncing jauntily over to Stan, Kyle and Cartman’s table.

Tweek, Clyde and Token were all watching Craig warily. He knew they hated his outbursts, but their discontent was not enough for him to stop.

Craig shrugged indifferently. “I hate that dude.”

 

*

 

“I bet she’s sleeping with the director.”

“The director is Wendy.”

“Yeah, and I bet she’s sleeping with Wendy.”

“Don’t act so bitter, Red! You got an actual fucking role.”

“Yeah, Red! It’s really, really cool a girl got Simon! You’re going to do so well.”

“I swear to god, Heidi, if you try to put a positive spin on this again, I’m voting you out of the group.”

Red, Heidi, Nichole, Annie and Jenny had all swarmed the cast list as soon as they got out of class, and each girl felt their heart drop into their stomach as they read the words every girl not named Bebe Stevens hates to see in a musical with a singular female lead.

Jenny sneered at Heidi. “She can just go hang out with Cartman, can’t she?”

“Eric is a good friend of mine!”

Red arched an eyebrow scathingly. “And sometimes friends end up fucking other friends. Hence Bebe getting the lead role after her shitty audition.”

Heidi frowned. Red knew jokes about Cartman always hurt her feelings. It was probably why Red and Jenny made them so often. “I thought Bebe did a really good job in her audition. Your negativity is contagious.”

She turned away from the other girls, ignoring Jenny’s mocking “tell Cartman I say hi!” as she set off down the hall.

The remaining four girls shook their heads in disbelief.

“She could do so much better,” Annie said sadly, and Nichole nodded.

Red flipped her off. “She probably can’t.”

 

*

 

“Five people is not nearly enough for the band,” Stan stared at the sign-up sheet for the orchestra.

“I think that together we can make a really strong orchestra!”

“You’ve clearly never heard Kevin Stoley play drums.”

Gary shook his head. “We can recruit some other people. I think I can get David to join Esther in the horns section. He can do some crazy things with his mouth.” Stan stared at Gary in shock, but he seemed completely unaware of the connotations of what he just said. “And I think that nice blonde girl plays guitar? Milly?”

“We have a guitarist.”

“Stan, this is a rock opera. There isn’t supposed to be only one guitar in the orchestra.”

Stan crossed his arms grumpily, and Gary sighed. “I’ll talk to them myself. You can keep being difficult here by yourself.”

“Hell no, dude! _I_ am head of the band. We’re going to go together.”

“Do you always need to be this difficult, Stan?”

He groaned as he heaved himself out of his seat to follow Gary on whatever mission he had that would inevitably work. It was a strange comparison. When Stan made plans, he usually ended up in the custody of the U.S. government. When Gary made plans, he usually ended up a million times more successful than he’d ever hoped for.

Stan hadn’t been stoked that Gary had been chosen to be in charge of the orchestra with him. Wendy had explained very patiently that Gary was by far the most adept pianist South Park High had to offer, and Stan had decided a Mormon who thinks he’s an immature douche was preferable to one of the Ugly Kids.

At least he was given something nice to look at.


	2. Heaven on Their Minds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is written with the assumption that Sally Turner is Heidi Turner's sister, and Red is Craig and Ruby's cousin.

The steps of the stage were packed to the brim with the students of South Park High. Kenny lazily leaned his head against Kyle’s shoulder as Wendy spewed a bunch of directions he wouldn’t have listened to even if he were paying attention. Butters was dutifully passing out scripts with the parts of the characters highlighted, and Kenny gratefully accepted a script with Judas Iscariot printed in Wendy’s perfect handwriting at the top.

“We’re going to be having rehearsals three times a week. Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. On Monday and Tuesday, we’ll try practice with the ensemble so most of you won’t have to show up on Thursday unless your name is on the schedule for that day.” Kenny glanced down at the schedule with begrudging interest, noting with a hint of pride that this Thursday simply said “Kenny McCormick – Heaven on Their Minds”.

He tried to catch Wendy’s eye to make some gesture that he’d noticed the early scheduling, but Wendy simply continued issuing directions. “This is a rock opera so our first few weeks of rehearsals will simply be learning your songs and general blocking. After that, we will begin to work on choreography. We’re still in the midst of searching for a good choreographer.” Wendy shot Butters a pointed look, but he simply continued to pass out scripts and schedules. “Stan’s dad has offered his services.” Wendy sighed. “I’m sure we can do much better than that.”

Sally Turner raised her hand eagerly in the air, and Wendy paused to look at her expectantly. “I’ve been taking ballet and jazz dance since I was in elementary school. I can help with choreography if you need it.”

Red nodded with a grin. “It’s not like Powder has much of a role anyway.”

“No one uses that name anymore,” Sally snapped back, and Heidi laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m just trying to offer my services.”

“I’ll take you up on that offer of your services,” Clyde called from across the room, and he and Token snickered into their hands like children.

Sally flipped him off. “Have you hit puberty yet?”

“He only has one testicle,” Cartman shouted over Clyde’s response.

Clyde glared at him. “Want to see the other one, Fat Boy? I have two!”

“Just… one hasn’t descended yet?” Cartman asked with genuine curiosity.

“You started that rumor, Cartman!”

Wendy whistled sharply to bring the attention back to her. “Sally, thank you very much for that offer. That sounds excellent. Would you mind attending all early rehearsals to get a feel of the songs?”

“Not at all!” She cried cheerfully, clearly delighted to have a role in the play that wasn’t named “woman”.

Wendy smiled at her warmly. “Perfect. We’re also going to need someone to work lights, make costumes, and work in the backstage crew. Butters, how are we doing on backstage recruitments so far?”

“We got Jimmy and Timmy,” he responded promptly.

Wendy winced. “Alright, guys. Let’s keep in mind that we’ll need more than two people. Also, um, it would help if the backstage crew could actually move the set,” she added as tactfully as possible.

Cartman raised a hand, and Wendy gestured to him with a frown.

“If we’re doing costumes, are we going to have prosthetic noses for all the Jews?”

“Every character is a Jew,” Kyle shot back immediately.

Cartman pushed at him. “Jesus was _not_ a Jew. Jesus was Christian.”

Color was rising to Kyle’s cheeks as he got angrier. “He was Jewish, Cartman!”

“Heresy! Heresy in the theater, you guys! Who’s going to put a stop to this?”

“Let’s see if Karen will do costumes,” Kenny murmured to Kyle, who nodded submissively. Kenny had been worried about her. He knew she was quieter than he was – even when his voice was muffled by a parka, she was always the quiet child. She had been at South Park High for a year and hadn’t joined any extracurricular activities or made any close friends.

Kenny wasn’t planning on college, but he didn’t want his sister to be alone in school all day without _any_ friends to turn to. She had long ago realized her guardian angel was, in fact, her older brother, and he had to know she’d be happy at school without him.

Other students were murmuring to one another about ideas for friends who could work backstage, and Wendy paused her speech to give people time to deliberate. “The sign-up sheets will be posted outside the theater for all positions. Now,” she clapped her hands purposefully, “Let’s jump in, shall we?”

“We shall,” Kenny shot back, and Wendy struggled to hide her smile as she glared at him.

“You guys can check your schedules to see what days you’ll be needed on. I suggest highlighting those days because missing practice will really set us back, and I don’t want you guys to waste your time showing up to the wrong rehearsal. We’re not going to start with any music yet. I thought it would be helpful for everyone if we went over the plot together so everyone is on the same page. Are you guys acquainted with the Bible?”

Cartman pointed at Kyle and mouthed “Jew”.

Kyle frowned at him. “I did the stations of the cross with you when we were kids!”

“Oh, right, that time you left me to starve to death. Classic Semitism.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “I think we should go over the story so that no one, ah, corrupts your view of the death of Jesus. And yes, Kyle is right. Every character in this musical is a Jew.” Wendy launched into a history lesson of Jesus and his twelve disciples, and Kenny could have sworn he heard snoring from somewhere in the theater. Glancing around, he noticed Red had shamelessly fallen asleep on Jenny’s shoulder.

Kenny only snapped back into attention when Wendy mentioned the name Judas. “I don’t think it’s any surprise that this musical was unpopular with Christians when it came out. In non-biblical texts, Judas Iscariot was said to have killed himself after the betrayal of Jesus. One source says he hung himself, and another said he jumped off a cliff. In this musical, Judas does hang himself. Pilate is also given a more sympathetic role than he was in the Bible, and that also exists in non-biblical texts such as _The Master and Margarita_. In fact, the only antagonists of this musical are mob mentality, King Herod, and the Pharisees.”

Kyle grinned victoriously at Cartman.

“I’ll discuss character analysis more with people as we meet for private rehearsals. Simply put, this musical is about Jesus becoming too famous for his own good. Judas believes that people are forgetting about what Jesus preaches and are allowing him to become an icon rather than a prophet. The mob pushes Jesus to a level of fame he never should have reached, according to Judas, and they immediately turn against him upon his arrest.”

Kenny hoped his snoring wasn’t as loud as Red’s as he felt his eyelids become leaden. Even channeling all his energy into watching Wendy wasn’t enough to keep him awake.

It was just enough to make his dreams really, really good.

 

*

 

“Karen!” Kenny bellowed as he and Kyle entered the dilapidated McCormick house after a history lesson that seemed like it lasted hours (or at least his dream about Wendy had lasted hours). “Come bond with me!”

“ _I have homework_!” She yelled back from up the stairs. It was really lucky how thin these walls were sometimes. Most of the time, it was really annoying.

“Kyle’s here! Come say hi!”

Karen didn’t respond for a second, but she eventually appeared at the top of the stairs and scampered down them eagerly. She gave Kenny and Kyle hugs of greeting, and Kyle looked noticeably uncomfortable when she pulled him into a hug.

The kid probably just hated being in Kenny’s house. Kenny couldn’t blame him. He hated it in here, too.

“What’s up, guys?” She asked happily. “Did you have your first rehearsal?”

“Indeed we did,” Kenny responded casually as he flopped down on the couch and patted the seat next to him for Karen to join. “I know you didn’t want to try out, but Wendy said they were looking for someone to work on costumes. I thought you might be interested.”

They exchanged a knowing glance. All of Karen’s clothing were hand-me-downs from her two older siblings, both of them male, and she had done an excellent job of learning how to tailor clothing so she didn’t look like a street urchin from a Charles Dickens novel.

“That’s a really big time commitment, Kenny.”

“What else are you committing your time to? I’ll be there almost every day. Kyle will be there almost every day. You’d be so good at it!”

Karen glanced shyly at Kyle, and he nodded encouragingly. “You should _definitely_ do it, Karen. Kenny’s right. You’re perfect for this.”

She blushed and nodded. “Okay.”

Kenny beamed at her. “I’ll add your name to the sheet next time I’m in the theater! This is going to be great. Make my costume the coolest, okay?”

“Glitter?”

“All the glitter you’re given. I want tassels, too. Lots of black tassels.”

Karen smiled and nodded obediently. “Who are you in it, Kyle?”

“Pontius Pilate. He’s the guy who sentences-.”

Kenny held up a hand. “Hey, we may be white trash, but we’re Irish Catholic white trash. Karen, you know who Pilate is, right?”

She giggled and nodded. “I’ll make sure to make your costume cool, too.”

“All the costumes you make will be cool,” Kenny assured her confidently. “You’re just going to make ours the best, right?”

She nodded again. “And Cartman’s the worst, yeah?”

Kenny snorted loudly, unaware of the tentative smile exchanged between his little sister and best friend. Had he been aware of it, he probably wouldn’t have minded. Kyle always had a brotherly instinct, and he’d grown up taking care of Karen almost as much as Kenny had. The day after Stuart had been arrested last year, a brown baggie with a full lunch inside and a green question mark taped to the top had appeared in her locker. The meals had continued to appear for the rest of the year until Kenny earned enough money over the summer to feed both of them adequately.

He was very aware of who had been feeding his sister. A lot of the packaged foods came with “certified kosher” labels. Kenny had tried to bring it up with Kyle, but Kyle firmly denied any involvement in the lunches.

That was how Kenny was absolutely sure it was Kyle. Kyle knew him well enough to know Kenny would try to pay him back if he told the truth.

“Do you have any requests, Kyle?”

Kyle chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully, and Karen turned bright pink. “Hopefully something that’s less gay than the fact that I’m in a musical at all?”

She smiled like, well, like Kenny smiled at everyone. Definitely not the way Karen smiled at everyone. “I know you’re not gay.”

“I want to look _really_ gay,” Kenny interjected, breaking up any moment that was to be had between the two of them. “Tweek gets to flip his hair. I want to flip my tassels.”

“Got it. So I should just make your costume similar to how you dress everyday?”

Kenny looked down at his outfit in horror. Boots, “stylishly” ripped up jeans, and a white t-shirt with a large stain around the left hem.

There was the hoodie, but Karen couldn’t make fun of him for that. He had done it for her. She didn’t like inheriting his bright orange parka. _Next_ year, she could inherit bright pink hoodie.

“Be aware of breast cancer,” Kenny muttered defensively, tugging on the hoodie self-consciously.

Kyle surveyed the hoodie like he hadn’t noticed it before. “Man, why don’t we rip on you more for that?”

“Because everything looks good on me?”

Kyle brushed a finger against his nose like he’d seen in _The Sting_. “Of course. How could I forget?”

Kenny wrapped an arm around Karen’s shoulders proudly. “That’s the McCormick charm getting you. Don’t worry – we have this effect on everyone.”

 

*

 

“You’re really not getting it, Kenny. It’s _e-E-e-every word you say today_. Not _e-every word_. You have to like wiggle your voice.”

“Thanks for the voice lessons, Stan. I can tell this is your area of expertise.”

“I can tell wiggling your voice _isn’t_ your area of expertise.”

Wendy sighed. “Kenny, can you just sing it the way the song is written?”

Kenny spread his arms open incredulously. “I thought you wanted to see what I could do naturally! Stan just keeps interrupting me about the way I sing “every”. And he does it _e-E-e-every time_.”

“That was actually perfect.”

Kenny stuck his tongue out at Stan, who almost dropped his guitar in his instinctual reflex to flip him off.

“Let’s do it from the top, Kenny,” Wendy groaned. She, Sally and Gary had been watching Kenny and Stan argue for almost half an hour, and Kenny had yet to sing the song in full.

“Are you going to interrupt me?”

“No one’s going to interrupt you.”

Kenny raised his eyebrows like he didn’t believe a word Wendy was saying, but he moved back to his original spot near the curtains. “I’m gonna go now?”

“Sing the fucking song!” Stan demanded.

“Then don’t interrupt me when I’m singing!”

“Sing the fucking song, Kenny,” Wendy agreed, her voice tinged with impatience. Kenny gave her a respectful nod.

“What – you’ll listen to Wendy but not me?”

Kenny grinned at Stan like he was about to respond, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was, “ _My mind is clearer now. At last, all too well, I can see where we all soon will be._ ”

Stan begrudgingly picked up his guitar, struggling to catch up with Kenny’s singing.

“ _Jesus!”_ Kenny shouted to the empty theater. “ _You’ve started to believe the things they say of you. You really do believe this talk of God is true!”_ He stomped to center stage, fury emanating from every inch of his body. He was still clenching the script with one hand, but he rarely had to glance at it for the words. “ _And all the good you’ve done will soon be swept away. You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say_.”

Sally murmured something to Wendy, and Wendy nodded in agreement with wide eyes. If Kenny weren’t so focused on nailing the word “every”, he would have paused to give the girls a wink.

“ _And believe me – my admiration for you hasn’t died. But e-E-e-every word you say today gets twisted ‘round some other way, and they’ll hurt you if they think you’ve lied_.” In a second, he was seated on the bleachers in front of the stage. He gesticulated wildly. If his focus weren’t wrapped up in the song, he would have wondered if Tweek felt himself becoming Jesus just like Kenny naturally assumed the role of Judas. “ _Nazareth, your famous son should have stayed a great unknown. Like his father carving wood, he’d have made good. Tables, chairs, and oaken chests would have suited Jesus best. He’d have caused nobody harm, no one alarm!_ ”

Then, he was back on his feet and storming across the stage. Sally nodded approvingly, her gaze containing everything he wished Wendy’s had.

Not that Wendy _wasn’t_ impressed.

She could just be more impressed.

Kenny wouldn’t mind.

 _“Listen, Jesus, to the warning I give. Please remember that I want us to live, but it’s sad to see our chances weakening with every hour. All your followers are_ blind _. Too much heaven on their minds. It was beautiful, but now it’s sour. Yes, it’s all gone sour_.”

The girls watched, enthralled, as Kenny wailed his way through the end of the song. With a decisive sigh, he dropped his arms at his sides and waited for the flood of approval he knew was coming.

Instead, the four of them were just staring at him, one part calculating and one part incredulous.

“Well?”

Wendy cleared her throat. “I think you could dial down the anger. This is an angry song, but you won’t make Judas appear sympathetic if he’s just screaming at Jesus the whole play.” Gary nodded in agreement. “What did you think, Sally?”

Sally tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It’s really cool how naturally you move with the song. I’ll have a better idea of blocking when we also have Jesus and the apostles on stage, but you seem to have a very good sense of your body.”

“Oh, I do.”

Sally eyed him with none of the innocence her sister would have possessed, and Kenny happily returned the look.

“I think we should work on your vocalizing at the end, Kenny,” Stan said in deliberate interruption of their moment. “You can’t just wail nonsense.”

“Stan, I barely know the words to this fucking song.”

Wendy frowned. “I told you to have them memorized!”

Kenny widened his eyes innocently. “Did you not just watch me sing the song?”

“Aw, Kenny’s ego just needs a compliment,” Sally interjected mockingly. “You did a really great job, Ken.”

Kenny puffed his chest out a little. His ego _did_ need a compliment. That was very true. Not that his ego could be seriously damaged by a singular event.

Would he like it if Wendy complimented him? Yes. Had Wendy complimented him? No.

He supposed the lack of feedback could be considered a compliment coming from a girl like Wendy. If she was going to direct a musical, she was going to be the best goddamn director she could be. That meant she would hold all her actors to that standard of excellence, right?

Undoubtedly.

The rehearsal passed uneventfully. Stan and Gary were allowed to leave after the first hour, in which Kenny was forced to practice wiggling his voice more than he could have ever imagined. When he was left alone with Sally and Wendy, Wendy motioned for him to join them in the audience.

Kenny jumped off the stage and strode over to them confidently. Wendy looked like she found something about his demeanor funny, but she didn’t say anything about it.

“Well, that was enjoyable. I don’t think I’ll ever say the e-word again.”

“Saying “ever” is very close to saying “every”,” Sally giggled into her hand.

Wendy tapped her pen against her clipboard, scanning Kenny’s face like she was proof-reading an essay. “Kenny, who is Judas to you?”

“Me.”

Sally choked on a sip of water, and Wendy leaned back in her chair. “What do you mean by that?”

Kenny shrugged. “I just feel him. I can’t say what he is any more than I can say what I am.”

“Kenny, Judas betrayed Jesus.” Sally grimaced like the water had left a bad taste in her mouth.

“He sold Jesus out to the authorities so he could preserve what Jesus actually meant to do. Judas was a good man, and he believed Jesus was a very good man, but he worried fame was clouding his message. He made the wrong decision, but his motivations are something I can understand. It’s not like he doesn’t show remorse. If I _could_ kill myself, and I were Judas, I think I would have done the exact same thing. That’s who Judas is to me.”

Wendy nodded with a small but noticeable amount of fascination in her eyes. “Do you think Judas was a better man than the other disciples?”

“Is this a debate on religion? The big guy upstairs isn’t going to let me in if I don’t side with Jesus.”

“In the context of the musical, Kenny.”

Kenny paused to think the question over. He didn’t realize how long he was quiet until he saw Sally surreptitiously checking her phone. “I think that Judas was firmer in his morals than the other disciples. I don’t know if that makes him a better man. Judas had a code of ethics that was very similar to Christ’s so he supported Christ when those ideas overlapped, but the other disciples simply supported Jesus.” He tugged on the string of his pink hoodie. “I don’t know if that makes him a better man. The other disciples never betrayed their friend and savior. It just makes him a man I respect more than the other disciples.”

Kenny couldn’t tell how much of his opinions were coming from an actual feel for the character. He had become a pro at giving oral presentations off the cuff when he forgot to do class assignments. He could spew bullshit for hours, and people would listen. Something deep down – deeper than his belief that even being the lead in a musical was pretty fucking gay – believed he really did empathize with the character.

Judging from the look in Wendy’s eyes, she certainly thought Kenny was being honest. “What about Jesus?”

Kenny’s lips parted in surprise. “Are you asking me if I think Judas is a better man than Jesus?”

“I’m not trying to get you sent to Hell, Kenny.”

Kenny scoffed. “Sure. Anyway, I think it’s impossible to tell because Judas was never given the chance to experience the fame that Jesus was experiencing as a prophet. Jesus was a good man, and Judas betrayed him. I definitely prefer the role of Judas.”

“Yes, I thought you’d be good for him,” Wendy responded vaguely.

Sally stuck her phone back in her pocket. “Are you doing any more run-throughs today or can I go home?”

“Let’s do one so you remember what you’re working with when you think about his choreography. Is that okay, Kenny?”

Kenny groaned and pushed himself back to his feet. “I’m not singing “every”.”

“Okay. Do it off script, though.”

Kenny gaped at her. “I got this part six days ago.”

“And you sang the song like ten times today. Do it off script.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and Kenny grumbled bitterly as he left his script in his chair and walked back to the stage.

It felt rawer without Stan and Gary there to provide music. Kenny stormed across the stage, maneuvering around a phantom group like he was imagining Jesus and his apostles on stage. Kenny felt rage overpowering the song, then he remembered Wendy’s suggestion and tried to force his heart to grow three sizes that day. He ended on the left side of the stage, tears springing up in his eyes as he sang out the final line, “ _It’s all gone sour_.”

This time, the girls looked astounded. The silence was broken when Sally nodded thoughtfully and added, “Let’s work on choreographing this as soon as the ensemble’s learned their part. I don’t think it’ll be too hard with you, Kenny.”

“Oh, it will be.”

Wendy made an obnoxious retching noise, and Sally grinned as she slipped on her backpack. “Then I guess it’ll take more work than I thought it would,” she responded easily before practically strutting down the aisle of the theater.

Kenny watched her leave before turning his attention back to Wendy. “You can compliment me this time, you know.”

“Were those real tears?”

“Obviously not. I’m not actually Judas Iscariot.”

“Did you plan that before you started the song?”

Kenny fiddled with the drawstring of his hoodie again. He felt strangely guilty as he admitted “no” in a low voice.

Wendy nodded. “Keep it. It was good.”

“Not too angry?”

She was staring at him with that impenetrable gaze that refused to disclose whether or not it was approving. “No. It was bitter. That was… good.”

Kenny’s ego, at least, grew three sizes that day.


	3. What's the Buzz / Strange Thing, Mystifying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. All chapters will follow this structure of two scenes outside of rehearsal then the rehearsal for the song in the chapter name. The chapter will be from the perspective of the soloist unless it's a group number in which case I'm just going to choose a character who wouldn't get much attention otherwise.  
> 2\. This clearly is really heavily using the music and plot from Jesus Christ Superstar. If you don't know the musical but want to enjoy the fic to its fullest, I can probably find links to either the 2012 or 1973 movies. They're both sick.

“Your tea is like half honey now, babe. At a certain point, do you not just want to eat it out of the bottle?”

“I’m an adult.”

“You sure? The bottle is shaped like Wellington Bear.” Nichole shook the honey bottle in front of Token’s face temptingly, and he wrinkled his nose.

He sighed and took a long sip of his viscous tea. “This is killing my throat,” he rasped out.

“Yeah, so stop talking.”

“Do you know how much shit Craig would give me if I stopped talking to save my voice?”

Nichole feigned glancing around her kitchen. “Where’s Craig?” When Token opened his mouth to respond, she cut him off. “Don’t actually respond. Save your voice.”

Token groaned and rested his head and arms on the kitchen table. Nichole nudged the cup of tea towards him, and he gratefully took another sip. He mouthed something at her that she suspected was very sweet, but Token should have realized years ago that Nichole had absolutely no ability to read lips.

“I don’t think you have another rehearsal for a week. You can recover in that time!”

Token nodded pitifully in response.

“You know those boys who hate how much their girlfriends talk?”

He nodded again.

“I’m really hating having this one-sided conversation, but I also don’t want you to talk. Why couldn’t you have gotten a role that didn’t require such a deep voice?”

He shrugged helplessly.

“Well, obviously I get why. You’re the only boy who could hit those notes. You sound amazing, but it’d be great if you could speak _and_ be Caiaphus.”

Token made a gesture with his hands like he was weighing the options.

“Have you considered a career as a mime?”

He (poorly) mimed being stuck in a box.

“Maybe a career as a mime who also sings opera?”

Token rolled his eyes.

“I’m just giving you suggestions. Law school isn’t your only option.”

Token snorted, accidentally displacing some tea from the cup. Nichole gave him a reprimanding look and stood up to grab a dish towel.

“This is fun. You’re like my diary.”

“I can speak.”

“Don’t,” Nichole said sharply. “Honestly, Token, you can do permanent damage to your throat. These notes weren’t made for a high school student’s voice.” She frowned down at his quickly emptying cup of tea and stood up to start more water boiling. “Wendy’s pushing you way too hard.”

Token widened his eyes in emphatic agreement.

“She’s just been off ever since she got this director position. She only talks to Butters, Sally and Bebe outside of rehearsals. The rest of us haven’t really seen her in days.” Nichole grinned at Token. “Fucking slave driver, am I right?”

Token gestured at the color of their skin and raised an eyebrow, and Nichole giggled. “I’ve started making racist jokes now, too! Yesterday, I made fun of an Asian!” She sounded so excited and proud of herself, and Token couldn’t resist bursting out laughing. It quickly dissolved into a raspy coughing fit, and Nichole watched sympathetically as he got the fit under control.

“Your voice sounds kind of sexy when you do talk, though. _Don’t talk_ , but I love it when you do. It’s like a chain smoker’s.”

Token held his hands out in confusion. Nichole realized she was sending mixed messages. She wanted his throat to not hurt, but she was already lonely during rehearsals as the only female disciple and lonely around her friends as Red’s temper shortened a foot each day. Token was really the only good thing left in her life, and he couldn’t talk.

“What if you practiced the songs in your normal voice half the time? It’d give your throat a rest.”

Token shot her a look that clearly read _do you think Wendy would let me do that_. Nichole sighed. “I miss you talking!”

“I can talk!”

“I know, but don’t! Stop talking!”

Token burst out laughing again, and Nichole again waited patiently for him to stop coughing.

“We just need to do things that are fun that don’t involve talking.”

Token raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Yes, I obviously mean that.”

A large grin spread over his face. “Will this last as long as my throat hurts?”

“I don’t know. Let’s see how long you last.” Nichole flipped the switch on the kettle to turn it off and grabbed his hand to lead him upstairs. “I also made sex jokes now! I’m getting really edgy. I think it’s Red and Jenny’s influence.”

Token wrapped her in a hug from behind and buried his face in her neck. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured in her ear.

“If you really believe Jimmy can be a comedian, you have to laugh at my jokes too.”

He nodded mockingly, and Nichole elbowed him gently in the ribs.

“I’m doing something nice for you. Nurture my dream of being a comedian. I’d support you if you wanted to be an opera mime.”

Token spun her around and pushed her up against a wall. “That’s not really what my dreams are about.”

 

*

 

Bebe dangled a script tauntingly in front of Red’s face. “Want to help me go over lines, babe?”

Red snatched the script out of her face, and Bebe had to grasp at it desperately before Red was able to tear it in half. “Maybe learn your fucking role yourself. That’s what _I_ would have done if I were Mary.”

Bebe looked around the other girls for support. “Red, you got a role. I don’t understand why you’re acting like such a bitch.”

Red sneered at her. “Maybe because Wendy’s best friend who can’t hit high notes got the only female lead, and I’m left with one song meant for a man.”

“That’s because you can’t hit high notes either,” Jenny giggled, and Red shot her a silencing glare.

“Simon’s one song is way cooler than any of Mary’s, Red!”

Red tossed her script down on the table and stood up from Bebe’s bed. “You don’t have to spend time with all the boys calling you a dyke for getting a male’s role, okay? Don’t act like I made a fucking achievement.” She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her and muttering something about vapid bitches.

Bebe looked crestfallen and glanced around at her friends for support. Nichole stared at her script deliberately avoiding eye contact – she too had gotten the same treatment for being a girl given a male role, but she’d been lucky enough to have Token appear out of thin air whenever a boy gave her shit in the hallway. In rehearsals, she wasn’t quite so lucky because of her very different schedule from Token’s, but she hadn’t been forced to suffer through a whole rehearsal with the other disciples yet.

She would find out how bad that could get tomorrow, she supposed.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” Bebe asked finally after none of the girls had given her any support.

“Probably Simon,” Jenny said practically, grinning a little as she did. Her role was infinitesimal compared to Red or Bebe’s, but being on the sidelines to watch their friendship devolve was more than enough fun to keep her occupied.

Heidi patted Bebe’s shoulder sympathetically. “She just doesn’t like being called the d-word, Bebe.”

Jenny coughed something that sounded suspiciously like _if the shoe fits_ into her hand, and Bebe snapped a glare in her direction. “The least you can do is not be part of the people bullying your friend!”

“Someone had to put Red in her place.”

Annie frowned to herself. “Red’s your best friend.”

“Yeah, and that’s why I couldn’t be the one to put her in her place.”

Bebe looked furious. “You’re a shit friend, Jenny.”

“Probably. You have to admit her reactions to the boys heckling her are pretty hilarious. Did you see the guys trying to force her and Lola to make out during rehearsals yesterday? I have never seen so many people get kicked in the balls in such a short period of time.”

Bebe shook her hand and glanced down at her watch. “Where _is_ Lola? Where are any of the band kids?”

Jenny raised her hand, and Nichole caught herself before she could audibly groan.

“ _What_ , Jenny?”

She cleared her throat. “Do we really have to hang out with Milly now that she’s friends with Lola and Esther? I personally find it offensive and sexist that people assume I need to be her friend because she’s also a girl.”

“Milly’s a sweetheart!” Heidi cried in a hurt voice.

Bebe raised an eyebrow warningly. “If you don’t want to hang out with Milly, I’d happily replace you. You know where the door is. Your best friend just walked out of it.”

Jenny glanced at the door and shrugged. “She’ll be _fine_. Red’s just overdramatic.”

“She really isn’t,” Nichole piped up before glares from Jenny and Bebe silenced her. She glanced around the room where Heidi, Sally and Annie were doing their best to avoid being sucked into the argument and flipped to the next page of the script with a sigh. “I’ll practice with you, Bebe.”

Jenny smiled triumphantly. “Always good to have the male perspective.”

Bebe looked at Jenny curiously. “Are you a bad person or do you hate us?”

She shrugged. “A little of both?”

 

*

 

Wendy looked like she was about to reach the end of her rope. “Okay, you guys. I know we haven’t had a rehearsal with this many people together. Could you all be quiet while I sort this out? Tweek, Kenny, Bebe, go to stage right. Disciples, stage left.”

Nichole sadly followed the other ten boys to stage left as Bebe was separated from her. The three leads looked slightly bored – they had already been through rehearsals for their solos, and it was now time to integrate them with the chorus.

It should have been a relief to finally be on stage with another girl, but it just made Nichole feel the gap between her and Bebe in a whole new way. She had been through rehearsals with Sally standing in for Tweek’s role, but Sally was always preoccupied rearranging the disciples.

Nichole couldn’t hold that against her. She had a lot of people who all required their own blocking, and she didn’t have the time to waste making Nichole feel at home around ten underclassmen males.

Sally clapped her hands loudly for attention. “Disciples, you guys should know where to be. Kenny, you’re in stage left – pretend you just finished your solo. Tweek, get on the top of the back bleachers, and we can start.”

Bebe raised a hand nervously.

“Right, Bebe. Just… dance with the disciples for now, and I’ll help you with specific choreography for the first few verses after our first try.”

“Alright, team, break!” Kenny called joyfully as he strode over to his spot, nudging Nichole out of the way gently. She got caught in the fray of disciples taking their spots, and a tenth grade boy grabbed her by her shoulders and pushed her out of his way as he got to his spot.

That shit wouldn’t fly if Token were here.

“Don’t push people!” A weak voice demanded. Tweek had paused his ascent to glare at the younger boy. “Apologize to Nichole.”

The boy looked like he could have peed his pants at the attention from Tweek. It made Nichole laugh inwardly. These boys were genuinely intimidated by him because he’d gotten the lead role, and Tweek was the most harmless boy on the planet. Still, the kid murmured an apology and hurried over to his position with shoulders hunched.

Nichole smiled gratefully, and Tweek nodded back. She wondered vaguely if Token had asked to make sure that she be defended in rehearsals, but that didn’t seem like Token. He knew she could take care of herself.

This was just Tweek welcoming her in as the girlfriend of his best friend.

Her smile spread even wider across her face as she took a spot on the bleachers below Tweek, tensing her muscles up as Stan loudly counted down from three.

“ _What’s the buzz? Tell me what’s happening!_ ” She sang the repetitive chorus again and again as disciples blocked Tweek’s path and begged him for answers.

Tweek grabbed a boy by the shoulders and forced him to look him in the eyes. “ _Why should you want to know? Don’t you mind about the future. Don’t you try to think ahead. Save tomorrow for tomorrow. Think about today instead_.”

They followed Sally’s choreography with few mistakes. The disciples swarmed Tweek again and again, and Tweek continued to respond confidently to all their supplications. Kenny had found a comfortable spot to lean on against the wall, and he was watching the song with a look of pure disgust on his face.

Nichole was a little envious of how easily the roles came to the two of them. Kenny, she would have suspected would take to any role like a fish in water, but Tweek sang his lines without a trace of hesitation. Wendy looked delighted with her casting until Bebe nervously approached Tweek and grabbed his shoulders in a way that Nichole guessed she meant to be comforting, but really she had just sunk her nails into his shoulders. “ _Let me try to cool down your face a bit_ ,” she sang again and again as she led Tweek to the front of the stage.

Wendy frowned to herself but didn’t say anything as the song continued. Tweek’s vocalization overshadowed Bebe’s weak lines, and the look of nervousness on Bebe’s face was enough to tell Nichole that she was very aware that she was the one lead who didn’t deserve her role.

Nichole tried to flash her a supportive smile as the disciples continued to chorus the same two lines, but Bebe was too focused on remembering her lyrics to catch her friends face.

Finally, the music changed, and Kenny pushed himself away from the wall. He swaggered over to Tweek and Bebe with an expression of utmost disgust. “ _It seems to me a strange thing, mystifying, that a man like you can waste is time on women… of her kind_.” His eyes flickered up and down Bebe’s body, and Bebe glanced away in shame.

_“Yes, I can understand that she amuses,_ ” Kenny grinned widely, “ _but to let her stroke you, kiss your hair, is hardly in your line_.” He grabbed Bebe by the wrist and pulled her to her feet, spinning her around to face him as he continued to advance on her. _“It’s not that I object to her profession,_ ” Bebe grimaced and looked away, “ _but she doesn’t fit in well with what you teach and say. It doesn’t help us if you’re inconsistent.”_ He let go of Bebe’s wrist and pushed her back, “ _They only need a small excuse to put us all away_.”

Tweek was in between the two of them in a flash, his back to Bebe as he pushed Kenny away from her. _“Who are you to criticize her? Who are you to despise her_?” He snapped, fury that the small boy rarely showed surfacing from somewhere in his depths. _“If your slate is clean, then you can throw stones. If your slate is not, then leave her alone!_ ”

Kenny stared at Bebe with an expression of betrayal before spinning on his heel and stalking to the back of the stage, where he posted up to watch the rest of Tweek’s performance.

Tweek stared nervously around his disciples, who were continuing to dance in worship. “ _I’m amazed that men like you can be so shallow, thick and slow. There is not a man among you who knows or cares if I come or go!_ ”

He spun away and stormed in the other direction, only to be caught by Bebe who murmured soothing words that were hidden by the disciples’ desperate cries of “ _no, you’re wrong! You’re very wrong! How can you say that?_ ”

The run-through ended with Tweek pushing Bebe aside and screeching, “Not one, not one of you!”

Suddenly, it was quiet, and it was like crickets chirping as the actors waited for Wendy’s response. Nothing came, and Nichole noticed with a hint of surprise that her gaze was lingering on Kenny with an expression of complete puzzlement.

Stan cleared his throat. “Okay, disciples, I know it gets a lot higher at the end, but Nichole can’t be the only one who can hit those notes.”

She puffed out her chest proudly, not expecting any specific compliment to come her way.

“That’s not fair!” A boy complained. “She’s a girl! Of course she’s better than us at high notes!”

Stan glared at the kid. “She’s just better at her role than you, okay? Learn how to hit the fucking notes or we’ll just ask Bridon to double as a disciple, okay? Maybe Nichole can even teach you how to sing the song properly.”

The boy mumbled something to one of his friends, but it was out of Nichole and Stan’s hearing. Stan flashed her an apologetic look, and she smiled gratefully.

Wendy had resorted to her nervous habit of tapping her pen against her clipboard at lightning speed. “Sally, can you sort out the disciples so they aren’t continually bashing into each other? I saw at least four of you pushing people out of your way. Newsflash, guys, if someone is in your way, it’s probably because you’re in the wrong spot.”

A boy who Nichole vaguely recognized as the boy who had pushed her leaned forward and muttered a soft “sorry again” in her ear.

“Bebe, can you and Tweek come with me and Stan so we can work on your lines privately?” Wendy smiled at Bebe weakly, but the look of shame on her face made it clear she knew exactly what she had done wrong. “The rest of the disciples can go through the choreography with Sally until you all stop running into each other by accident, got it?”

Kenny raised a hand slightly, and Wendy snapped her glare in his direction. “Yes, you have to stay and learn your blocking too, Kenny.”

“I don’t do shit in this song!”

“If you’re in the song, you stay on the stage!” Wendy responded in a shrill voice, and Kenny backed up to his original position. Bebe and Tweek froze like they were playing Red Light Green Light, and Wendy rolled her eyes. “Besides you two. You guys come with me.”

“But we’re in the song?” Tweek asked in a weak voice.

Wendy and Stan pinched the bridges of their nose in perfect coordination. “If you’re in the song, _but not Bebe or Tweek_ , stay on stage.”

Tweek nodded obediently and jogged down to meet Wendy in the audience’s seats. Nichole gave Bebe a sad wave goodbye as the four of them disappeared through a door to work privately.

Sally paused to survey the disciples. “I actually really liked the pushing. Keep it, but I want you guys to only push Judas, okay?” She frowned and bit at her nail. “Don’t tell Wendy I told you to do it until we see if she likes it or not.”


	4. Everything's Alright

Red was never exactly a positive presence. Bebe couldn’t place her finger on _why_ she liked having Red around so much. She wasn’t nearly as awful as Jenny Simon, but she was undoubtedly a vengeful bitch. Bebe had been viciously rejected by Craig enough to recognize the Tucker genes in her.

She should have just backed off. Red made it pretty clear that she didn’t want to talk about their roles, and Bebe should have left it at that.

Except Bebe never left anything at that.

It was harmless. Really. All she did was congratulate her on her vocals after the first rehearsal of “Simon Zealotes”, and Red took it as some horrible affront to her personal worth.

“I _know_ I did a great job. Thanks for your validation, though. It really wouldn’t mean anything if it didn’t come from you, right?”

Bebe scrunched up her face in confusion as Red exited the theater. “I’m complimenting you!”

“Shame I don’t have a compliment to give you.”

“What does _that_ mean?”

Red paused and frowned at her like she had expected Bebe to be smarter than this. “It means you can’t handle one of the most important roles in this musical, and it’s all going to suck because of you.”

Bebe drew her breath in sharply. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

That was an unpleasant smile to be on the receiving end of.

“Seriously, Red, you have to learn how to get out your emotions without acting like a total bitch. One day, you’re going to be Jenny, and none of us are going to want to have anything to do with you.”

It was true. Jenny was clinging to their friend group by Red’s attachment to her alone. She made Heidi cry at least twice a week. The only girls in the group who hadn’t been hurt by Jenny were Red and Wendy. Jenny wouldn’t dare fuck with Red, and Wendy had taught Jenny a serious lesson about which one of them was _actually_ a threat the first time Jenny had tried to taunt her.

No one ever brought it up again, but it was enough for Jenny to forgive Cartman for making her shit her pants in the fourth grade. Cartman’s wrath was nothing compared to Wendy Testaburger’s.

Red pretended to pout. “Aw, did I hurt little Bebe’s feelings? I’m sowwy.”

“You doing a baby voice is disturbing.”

“Not nearly as disturbing as hearing you butcher the role of Mary Magdalene, I promise you.”

Red turned towards her locker, and Bebe followed her quickly. She cursed Red’s long legs; Bebe could barely keep up with her strides even at a slight jog. “You’re being way too bitter for this to be about a musical role. I didn’t even know you cared about musicals!”

“It’s really just about the musical, and, for the record, that mask I was wearing to your stupid Halloween party was from the _Phantom of the Opera_. Look at it. It’s by the guy who did the musical you’re currently starring in.”

Bebe was taken aback. “That’s kind of gay. You don’t seem like a musical theater type of-.”

“ _Stop calling me gay_.” Red pushed Bebe back firmly. “You’re the one who’s so asexual that Jesus and Judas have more chemistry than Jesus and Mary.”

“Okay, Judas and Jesus have a lot of chemistry to begin with. It’s a very homoerotic musical.”

Red let out a strange hissing noise. “If you did your role properly, we wouldn’t have a problem, Bebe. Instead, you have your best friend directing it and taking roles away from much more deserving girls.”

“Are you mad because you think _you’re_ that deserving girl?”

Red tapped her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Well, Wendy clearly didn’t want to cast me as “woman” like the rest of our friends, so I’m guessing that I _would_ have that role if you weren’t sucking her metaphorical dick.”

“You suck metaphorical dick!” Bebe squeaked back, anger quickly overtaking her wit. “And by that I mean you’re a fucking dyke!”

The punch wasn’t unexpected.

By the time Bebe’s vision returned, she had mysteriously gotten onto the ground somehow, and Red was shaking out her fist angrily. “Never use that word on me again. Got it?”

Bebe nodded weakly.

“By the way, your nose is bleeding. You should get that checked out. Everyone knows you’re not cool enough to be a coke addict.”

Bebe could barely gather her thoughts enough to shout back “coke’s not the only drug that goes up your nose!” before she heard the heels of Red’s shoes clicking away.

Bebe only had time to raise a hand to gingerly touch her gushing nose in horror before someone was there with a fistful of paper towels. She almost passed out from the pain as the mysterious hand gave her nose a tug, but the new arrival sighed in relief.

“It’s not broken,” the voice assured her. “Good comeback, by the way. Coke _isn’t_ the only drug that you can put up your nose.”

Bebe blinked her eyes open to meet Kenny’s mildly amused gaze. “What?”

“Oh, do you have a concussion? What day of the week is it?”

Bebe yawned. “That’s not information I know normally. How much money do you think went into making this hallway so comfortable?” She murmured sleepily before Kenny caught her head.

“Okay, you’re definitely concussed.”

“Oh _noooo_ ,” Bebe said weakly. “What do I do?”

Kenny rubbed his jaw. It was quite a nice jaw. She was proud of him for having it. “My treatment methods don’t work for the majority of humankind. You need to go to a hospital.” He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up, her head rolling back as he brought her to her feet. “That was the least sexy cat fight I’ve ever seen.”

“Get Candy,” Bebe demanded weakly.

“It’ll taste like blood.”

“No, Candy!”

Kenny stared at her in confusion before an expression of realization dawned on his face. “You want your friend? Wendy’s in rehearsals right now.”

“Rehearsals for what?”

Kenny’s eyes widened. “I’m gonna get you help just… don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Bebe gave him a dazed smile. “I think you said those exact words when I lost my virginity.”

Kenny paused in his quest to find his cellphone to give her a funny look. “You forgot the name of your best friend and the musical you’re starring in but not having drunken sex sophomore year?”

Bebe patted his head sweetly. “No, you did a great job!”

 

*

 

“We need you at rehearsals again next week,” Wendy said in an authoritative voice as she dropped a pile of notes next to Bebe’s bed. Then, in a softer voice, she asked, “How are you doing?”

Bebe looked at the notes in confusion. “Wendy, I was in school today. I’ve been in school all week. It’s a sweet gesture, but I sat next to you in those classes.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t take any notes.”

“I _never_ take any notes.”

Wendy looked scandalized, but she dropped the subject. “I also thought maybe you’d like to practice with me before we add the rest of the cast. We’re doing the full blocking of _Everything’s Alright_ on Friday, and you’ve missed a couple rehearsals.”

“Who stood in for me?” Bebe asked in a betrayed voice.

“No one. We just switched the schedule so Kyle and Cartman could start learning their roles. It’s been _miserable_.” Wendy sighed. “I don’t know why I thought Cartman would be a good actor to work with. I think he just reminded me so much of King Herod as a person.”

“Does he suck?” Bebe asked eagerly. As much as she hated it, she would love to not be the worst lead in the musical.

Wendy shook her head, missing Bebe’s clear hope for affirmations. “He’s hilarious. It’s perfect. I just want to stick a gun in my mouth whenever he’s around.”

“That’s phallic. Don’t do that to Heidi.”

Wendy snickered as she pulled a disk out of her bag. “I have the music here so you can practice your vocals. It’s not Kenny or Tweek singing, but it’ll still be helpful.”

Bebe groaned. “I don’t want to practice right now, Wendy. I’m _bad_ at this.”

Wendy snapped her gaze up to glare at Bebe furiously. “I do not cast bad actors, okay? You were the top choice for Mary so practice your fucking ass off. Don’t whine about not being as talented as Tweek or Kenny when you put in half the amount of effort they do.”

“Do you really think Kenny puts in _that_ much effort?”

Wendy paused searching Bebe’s MacBook Air in vain for a CD drive. “He’s a special case,” she said finally. “Can you not put disks into these stupid things?”

Bebe shook her head. “Look how cute and tiny it is, though!” She smiled triumphantly. “I guess you’re just going to have to hang out with me without talking about _Jesus Christ Superstar_ for thirty minutes!”

“Nope,” Wendy said decisively. “We’re doing character analysis.”

“Why do you stare at Kenny whenever he sings?” Bebe asked impulsively because honestly _anything_ was better than more character analysis with Wendy.

Wendy turned red with what might have been anger but was likely embarrassment. “I’m his director. It’s my job to stare at the person who’s singing.”

“Yeah, but you do it like this,” Bebe mimicked Wendy’s dreamy face then giggled and turned her attention back to her friend. “Kenny’s _really_ good in bed. At least he was as a sophomore. I highly recommend him.”

Wendy covered her mouth in surprise. “I forgot that you lost your virginity to Kenny.” Something flickered across her face that suggested this realization meant much more to her than simply being a friend who forgot an important part of another friend’s life. “You guys don’t still hook up, do you?”

Bebe shook her head. “I’m trying to get into Petuski’s pants, personally.”

“Petuski?”

Bebe bit her bottom lip. “Okay, calling him DogPoo is a big turnoff for me.”

“Understandably. It is his name, though. I think. It’s his name on his actual student records – did you know that? I thought it was a mean nickname!”

In a second, the two girls had both burst out in hysterics. “He must have the meanest parents in the world.”

“It’s worse than the woman who named her daughter Chlamydia because she thought it sounded pretty.”

“I thought that was a rumor?”

Wendy shook her head vehemently. “No, apparently she’s Esther’s dealer.”

Bebe snorted. “No, that’s _Claudia_. Esther was just really stoned, and the names sounded too similar. I promise Chlamydia is not actually a girl’s name.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck is wrong with Claudia’s voice that Esther would mistake those two?”

“Esther was _really_ stoned. She just wanted to tell you a cool story.”

 

*

 

“Is the patient ready to get on stage again?” Kenny asked in mock concern as he collided with Bebe outside the theater. “Getting two weeks off for a concussion _really_ makes me wish I injured my head more often.”

“Wendy made me do private rehearsals.”

Kenny grinned. “So everything’s alright?”

“Cute. I get it. Fuck off.”

“Wait, babe, I brought you a present!” Kenny caught Bebe by the upper arm before she could open the doors. “You just can’t tell Wendy I gave it to you, okay?”

“Kenny, I swore I’d only have sex in the school bathrooms _once_ , and I wasted it with Clyde.”

“First, that’s tragic. Second, the gift was not sex. I am glad that’s the first place your mind goes though.” Kenny fished around in his back pocket to pull out a CVS pill baggie filled with a few white bars. He tipped two out onto his hand and swallowed one immediately before offering the other to Bebe.

Bebe stared at it suspiciously. “What are those?”

“Bars.”

“I can tell that much, Kenny! I mean what kind of drug are they?”

Kenny laughed for an irritatingly long amount of time, still holding the white bar out to Bebe. “It’s Xanax. They’re called bars. That’s, y’know, what the cool kids say. It’ll take away your anxiety.”

“I know what Xanax is,” Bebe sniffed. “Do you have any water?”

“I already gave you a present. Stop being such a gagger.” Kenny gave her a wink and dumped the bar in her hand before entering the theater. Bebe frowned down at it then swallowed it quickly and hurried in after Kenny.

He smiled at her. “You took it?”

Bebe nodded, screwing her face up at the feeling of the bar sliding down her throat without any water to help its journey.

“Good. You’re good at this, Bebe. You just doubt yourself to much.” He gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “You’ll crush it today.”

Kenny moved over towards Tweek, and Bebe rushed after him. “Wait, Kenny, how much was that?”

“3.5 milligrams. If you really cared, you would have asked me before you took it,” he responded breezily before dropping down next to Tweek and slipping him a bar, which Tweek gratefully swallowed without question.

“That seems like a lot!”

“You gave her one?” Tweek squawked in disbelief.

“Oh, is that how you seem so confident when you sing?”

“Nah, Tweek’s just a good singer who happens to like not feeling any anxiety,” Kenny said fondly, ruffling the other boy’s long, blonde hair. “Welcome to our club.”

“You’re not cool just because you offer people drugs.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “Really? All your friends are sitting over there,” he gestured with his chin to the other side of the bleachers where all the women had collected. “You’ve clearly chosen to hang out with the cool kids.”

“We’re the leads,” Bebe muttered defensively, but she _did_ stick with Kenny and Tweek. Kenny smirked at her as Wendy went through role call, and all the girls shot her stares questioning why she had chosen not to sit with them.

“Okay, guys, welcome Bebe back to rehearsals!” Wendy said happily to a weak response from the crowd. “Bebe, did Sally reach out to you to learn the blocking together?”

“Yeah, I think I got it,” Bebe muttered nervously. Why wasn’t this fucking pill kicking in? She wanted to be as calm as Kenny. Tweek still looked rather jittery, but Bebe knew those nerves would be gone as soon as he got on stage with or without the help of drugs.

Half an hour later, as Bebe stumbled through her blocking, her brain foggily reminded her that the pill had probably been given enough time to take its effect. She giggled loudly as Wendy referred to all of their friends as “women”, and she laughed even louder as she caught Kenny and Tweek exchange a knowing smirk.

Sally looked confused and frustrated by Bebe’s lack of grace. “Did the concussion knock your center of balance out of your head?”

“Back off her, Powder. She’s recovering from an injury,” Wendy snapped before turning to Bebe with equal frustration. “You can get it this time, right?”

Bebe saluted, and Kenny snickered loudly.

“Okay. From the top. You’ve got this, Bebe,” Wendy assured her with a kind smile. Bebe didn’t really need any reassurances. She _knew_ she had this. Gary had been the only musician able to attend practice today, and she grabbed Tweek’s hand and led him to center stage as the piano began to play a calming melody.

“ _Try not to get worried, try not to turn on to problems that upset you, oh, don’t you know everything’s alright, yes, everything’s fine. and we want you to sleep well tonight. Let the world turn without you tonight. If we try, we’ll be fine, so relax; think of closing your eyes tonight._ “

“Bebe, those aren’t the words,” Wendy snapped, and Gary immediately stopped playing. “Did you learn the words?”

“Yeah, totally!”

“Do you need to look at your script?”

Kenny was trying his hardest not to crack up, and Wendy’s gaze kept drifting suspiciously back to him.

“No, I can get it, Wendy! Just… start again! I’ll get it.”

Gary obediently began playing, and Bebe fumbled her way through the wrong verses at the wrong time. Wendy looked horrified until Kenny, much better at handling his drugs than Bebe, pushed himself in between her and Tweek. “ _Woman, your fine ointment, brand new and expensive, should have been saved for the poor. Why has it been wasted? We could have raised,_ ” Kenny mumbled a number, _“silver pieces or more! People who are hungry, people who are starving matter more than your feet and hands!_ ”

Tweek took an angry step towards Kenny, and Bebe caught him. Her fingers splayed across his chest as she pled with him, once again failing to hit the correct verse at the correct time. She thought she might have sung the same verse a couple of times, and Wendy’s expression of fury suggested that was probably correct.

“ _Surely you’re not saying we have the resources to save the poor from their lot_ ,” Tweek spat, pushing Bebe aside gently. “ _There will be poor always, pathetically starving, look at the good things you’ve got!”_ He grabbed Kenny by the collar and swung him around. _“Think while you still have me. Move while you still see me. You’ll be lost. You’ll be so sorry when I’m gone.”_

The music rose, and Bebe could barely make her voice heard above the piano alone. “ _Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you and anoint you, muffle your hot forehead, oh, then you’ll feel everything’s alright, yes, everything’s fine_.” Wendy looked incredibly disturbed by Bebe’s lack of grasp of the lyrics, but eventually she got to the point where the other women could join her with a chorus of “ _everything’s alright, yes_ ”.

Well, she thought it helped her. She thought she was supposed to be singing that part too.

“Bebe, sing your fucking solo!” Wendy yelled over the music. “You don’t sing with the chorus!”

_“Close your eyes, close your eyes, and relax_ ,” Bebe responded, completely out of sync with the piano and chorus.

Wendy slammed her script down. “Gary, stop. Everyone is free to go besides Bebe, Kenny, and Tweek.”

Kenny smiled apologetically at Bebe, and she shrugged. Something gave her a bad feeling that she had fucked up when the others filed out of the theater, and Wendy stalked up to the stage to examine the three of them.

She knew she was in a lot of trouble when Wendy grabbed her by the chin and stared into her eyes, looking back and forth between her and Kenny. “You guys are high!”

Kenny held his hands up innocently. “Don’t get mad at me! I still did my part!”

“You forgot the number 300!”

“Ah, you noticed that, did you?”

Wendy looked like she could have slapped him. “Tweek has a higher drug tolerance than you,” she said finally. It was possibly the worst insult she could have given Kenny, and he burst out laughing.

“Tweek cannot be sedated, Wendy.”

“It’s true. I can’t.”

“This rehearsal is over. You three are all clearly useless right now. You can have a makeup rehearsal tomorrow, and I will urine test you if I have to.”

Kenny gave her a kiss on the cheek, leaving without question. “I’ll always come up positive, and, by the way Ms. Scientist, the over-the-counter urine tests won’t show benzos _so_ I gotcha.”

Wendy looked like she was about to burst with impotent rage until Kenny nodded at Bebe and whispered, “Come get high at my place after?” in a voice loud enough for Wendy to hear.

Wendy was practically shaking with anger, but Bebe either didn’t notice or didn’t care because she just nodded and watched Tweek and Kenny exit the theater with arms around each other’s shoulders.

“I am so fucking disappointed in you,” Wendy spat. “Go get high. See if I fucking care. I’ll make sure Mary has an understudy in case you try to pull this shit again.”

Bebe nodded meekly and mumbled a quick apology before running down the steps towards Tweek and Kenny.

Kenny lifted up his arm to welcome Bebe underneath it, and she happily got pulled into his chest.

“ _Everything’s alright, yes, everything’s fine_ ,” Kenny sang into her ear softly, sending shivers down her spine.

Getting high with Kenny seemed like the perfect solution for a botched rehearsal.


	5. This Jesus Must Die

“Guess who you have the special honor of addressing?”

Token pointed at his throat and raised an eyebrow questioningly. The role of Caiaphas was _killing_ him. He may never speak outside of rehearsals again in his life, and Wendy showed no pity. He wasn’t going to keep doing this bullfrog voice in every rehearsal.

“The understudy for Mary Magdalene!” Nichole answered with a squeal, jumping into his arms for a tight hug.

Token gave her a confused look. Wendy hadn’t casted understudies for any of the roles. It was probably not the safest way to play it, but they didn’t have enough time for the chorus to learn two roles just in case someone got sick. Wendy would probably be up there playing King Herod if Cartman got sick.

“Bebe showed up high for rehearsal a couple times, and she and Wendy are having a pretty bad fight. Wendy doesn’t trust her to have her shit together on the night of the performance. I think Bebe might be sleeping with Kenny, too, and that’s never going to be a good influence.”

Token opened his mouth in surprise, but he gave Nichole another hug of support.

“I’m mad because I understand his appeal, but I _hate_ that I understand it. He’s basically just a drug pusher who sleeps around nonstop, and Bebe has a really addictive personality. She’ll get addicted to him and whatever he’s giving her, and then she’ll end up more fucked up than before.”

Token nodded. He wasn’t too insecure in his heterosexuality to openly appreciate when a man is attractive. Kenny was hot as shit, and he was very charismatic no matter what sinister thoughts lay behind his words. He also had strange flashes of being a good person. The best person, in fact. It just seemed like Kenny pulled that side of him out when it was necessary and spent the rest of the time doing drugs and trying to fuck his way through the senior class.

“I’m worried about her. I’m worried about everyone. We all did this musical together because it’s our last year at school, and it’s making everyone hate each other more, including fucking Lola, Milly, and Esther, who seem like they’ve formed a band clique that no longer needs our friendship.”

Token shrugged and nodded. He didn’t even see Clyde and Tweek as much as before, and Craig had become a sad rarity in his life. He spent so much time in rehearsals with just DogPoo and Bridon with the occasional addition of the random underclassmen priests or chilling with Nichole that his friends seemed to have dropped off the face of his earth.

Nichole dropped down onto his bed and gestured for him to join her. “I think I’m getting used to dating my diary. It’s kind of nice to have someone to tell all the stupid shit my friends do.”

Token looked at her suspiciously, and Nichole rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get that your friends do stupider shit, but you can’t disregard that my friends are idiots.”

“Or bitches,” he rasped out, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly as she shushed him.

“I’m pretty sure Red is throwing a party in a few weeks just to hook up with DogPoo. I’m honestly surprised she thinks he requires that much effort. It shows a surprising amount of respect for him.”

Token snorted and nodded in agreement.

“You can’t deny that Red is kind of like my friend group having our own Craig? Their genetics are _strong_ , man. Have you met his little sister? She’s doing costumes, and she’s the baddest bitch I’ve ever met. It’s incomprehensible. She’s a freshman.”

Token nodded emphatically. If anything, Ruby had grown up in Craig’s wake and learned how to avoid everything that made him as dorky as any of the other boys. That girl was purely tough. Honestly, Red was too. Token wondered how Craig would react if he ever realized that his female relatives were stronger than he was.

“But, Token, _actually_. _DogPoo_. We all thought Red had been acting bitchier than usual because she liked someone, but I had no fucking idea it could be DogPoo. It… kind of makes me realize how dumb we are that him singing one song perfectly changed every girl’s opinion of him.” Nichole shook her head as she continued musing out loud. She had started to get better and better at one-sided conversations as it became clear Token’s throat was not in play until weeks after the show.

Token was a little surprised by how little he minded just hearing her talk for hours. They spent _a lot_ more time having sex, and he didn’t deny that was worth all the sore throats in the world, but he also spent the majority of his days sitting with Nichole and letting her talk. It seemed like she bottled up a lot during the day to share with him.

Plus, she wasn’t boring. She gossiped a lot. It was all a lot of her friends did, but Token cared about shit when she was the one telling him. It _was_ weird that all the girls suddenly dug DogPoo. Token didn’t understand why he hadn’t just sung a song years ago and gotten friends before senior year.

“Oh, shit, you have like every rehearsal with him right? Like all your songs are just kinda him echoing you?”

Token nodded. That was a mean way of putting it, but that was a pretty accurate summary of DogPoo’s role.

“Is he worth everyone having this interest in him?” Nichole looked eager to here about the _real_ DogPoo, like he had become some sort of celebrity among her friends. He was just a boy. He was a boy who had grown up with a very limited number of friends so it was kind of cool to see him try to connect to other people, but he was just bland.

Token shrugged.

“It’s getting really weird, though. Everyone’s super tense. Wendy and Red both won’t talk to Bebe, and Wendy’s basically abandoned everyone other than Sally. I only see her during rehearsals, and she’s never mean, but she’s just kind of cut herself off.”

Token frowned. That wasn’t like her. Wendy could handle anything. He’d dated her for a bit in elementary school and again in the seventh grade – he got a lot of shit from Clyde for switching between Wendy and Nichole so often. In the end, Nichole was always the right answer, and Wendy knew it too.

Nichole sighed and slumped her arms forward. “Whatever. I’m sure it’ll get better. If not soon, then after this musical is done.”

Token gave her a cheerful thumbs up, and she snickered.

“How are you even still singing your songs? Your voice is sounding _rough_.” She smiled at him sympathetically like she thought he’d take it as an insult. Token had no idea how he got through his songs, but he did sing his songs just like he was supposed to. It just required him never speaking other than when singing his songs.

He shrugged a shoulder. This form of communication was actually pretty fun. He didn’t really need to think deeply about any response.

“You better be able to speak after this musical. I am not being a mute’s girlfriend forever.” Nichole frowned. “Is that bigoted?”

Token nodded and rasped in a voice like sandpaper, “It’ll be fine.”

 

*

 

He only really got to collect with his friends at lunch, and Tweek sometimes used those periods to rehearse with Kenny. Today, Tweek decided to join them, and it felt like it had been ages since the four of them sat together.

“How’s the show going?” Craig spat after a lengthy silence that had never happened before.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about the show,” Tweek responded in confusion. “I heard they’re making a _Red Racer_ videogame!”

“That sounds awesome, but the show seems like the only thing you guys want to focus on so I guess I have to fucking listen to that.”

“Aw, you’re bitter you aren’t in the musical. That’s so cute,” Clyde cooed sarcastically.

“I would never, _ever_ be in the school’s musical.”

“You know you can do lighting or something? You don’t have to boycott it. It’s fun, dude.”

Craig frowned. “My skills are too impressive to waste on lighting _Jesus Christ Superstar_.”

“It’s actually gonna be really difficult, Craig,” Tweek squeaked. “Butters and Wendy’s expectations are kind of way to high.”

“Butters is just being a dick about set design in general,” Clyde muttered. “We don’t need to hear about that shit.”

“I’m not doing lighting,” Craig sneered. “I have to get my photography portfolio together anyway.”

Token looked surprised, but he stayed silent. His friends rarely talked about their plans for the future. It was to the point of secrecy, honestly. So few kids in South Park had higher goals that it felt rude to bring up plans of law school around them.

Well, now he knew Craig was looking for art school. He was pretty sure Clyde was trying to be recruited for football, and he didn’t think he was doing very well. Tweek was a complete enigma.

Clyde took a big bite of his sandwich and shot back through a mouthful, “Be stubborn. Fine.” He struggled to swallow the bite. “Don’t act like we’re not paying attention to poor Craig if you’re not going to put in effort to meet in the middle.”

“I don’t need your attention.”

Token snorted, and Craig flipped him off. “You’re being a pussy for _saving your throat_ , too.”

“Yeah, dude, avoiding lactose is getting kind of anal,” Clyde agreed, immediately forgetting any disagreement with Craig now that they had a target to collectively gang up on.

Token held up his hands like _whatcha gonna do?_ , and Tweek jumped in on his behalf. “Token’s role requires way too deep a voice. It’s gonna ruin your vocal chords forever!”

Token waved a hand like it was nothing. He loved the complete admiration people were giving him for being able to play his role.

Nothing made him more bitter than the fact that Cartman was on stage for _one song_ , and his character would always get more attention than Token’s, which required him literally destroying his vocal chords. He was pretty sure all the “villains” felt the same way. King Herod would always get the most attention and require the least work.

“I didn’t realize there were any roles in musical theater not written for twinks,” Craig responded without hesitation. “How do they expect to cast that?”

“Watch the musical before you shit on it,” Clyde responded with a sigh. “It’s fun, dude. You get a chance at every girl in the senior class.” He raised a hand respectfully at Token. “I don’t mean Nichole.” He paused. “Not that Nichole isn’t hot. I would totally make a pass at her if-.”

“Your apology is making it worse,” Craig drawled, answering for Token.

“I just didn’t want him to think Nichole wasn’t hot.”

Token put a hang to his heart and nodded at Clyde.

“But, Craig, _every_ other girl in the grade.” Clyde grinned, “Or you can be like Tweek and hang out exclusively with Kenny when _Kenny’s_ not busy hitting on every girl in the grade.”

“All my songs are with him,” Tweek snapped, and Craig’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m definitely not doing lighting for a musical that would cast him as a lead.”

Tweek frowned. “They casted me as a lead.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Wendy’s not a total idiot.”

“ _Craig’s jealous of Kenny,”_ Clyde added in a sing-song voice. He promptly choked on his bite as someone clearly kicked him under the table. “He’s really fucking good, dude. He’s chill, too – you need to give him a chance.”

“I’m not the one who’s forced to spend time with him,” Craig said definitively as Tweek sank down in his chair. “I’ll leave it to you guys to decide how chill he is.”

Token sipped his tea thoughtfully and stared at Craig. Being unable to speak gave him a welcome opportunity to simply analyze every facet of his friends’ behavior, and Craig was clearly unhappy with the toll this musical was taking on their friend group.

Honestly, he should just suck it up and do lighting. Musicals spread like the plague. Everyone who’s in them will get wrapped up in them, and if Craig was so upset to lose his three best friends to _Jesus Christ Superstar_ , he probably just had to participate in the show.

Their unpleasant conversation was interrupted abruptly by a tap on Token’s shoulder. He twisted around in his chair in surprise to meet Butters, still wearing the black beret he’d kept on since the beginning of the musical.

Token nodded in greeting. Butters already knew his voice was a precious commodity not to be wasted on petty conversation (in Wendy’s words, not his).

“Well, hey guys! Craig, it feels like it’s been awhile!”

“That was on purpose,” Craig droned.

Butters looked away from him disinterestedly. “Token, I don’t know if you’ve heard but our costume and set design has gone a little over budget.”

“Over budget,” Craig repeated like this validated every point he’d made.

Token sighed silently as he waited for the request he knew was coming.

“We could really use a wealthy benefactor to help with this. The fog machine alone is… all of our budget.”

“There’s a fog machine?” Clyde examined in excitement as Craig fell back in his seat with a groan.

“I told you lighting would be difficult!” Tweek exclaimed.

“Okay, in all honesty, it’s already put us over-budget. Kenny’s little sister seems to think we can get away with turning rags to riches, but I think that’s a load of bullshit. Our costumes need to be perfect, Token. We need more money.”

Token sighed loudly in annoyance, and Butters patted his shoulder peacefully.

“Just think it over, buddy. We could do a really good job if we got just a _little_ more money.”

Token stared at him with a firm glare until Butters left the table. Craig snickered, happy to have every point he made proved by Butters’ usage of Token’s wealth, but to both of their surprise, Tweek and Clyde just glanced at Token beseechingly.

 

*

 

“ _Good Caiaphas, the council waits for you. The Pharisees and priests are here for you_ ,” DogPoo announced in his smooth tenor. Backstage, the girls in the chorus looked beyond excited to be singing with DogPoo and Bridon onstage. Token liked to think a little part of those starstruck looks had to be for him.

“ _Ah, gentleman,”_ Token began in a voice that rumbled out of his chest. _“You know why were are here. We’ve not much time and quite a problem here_.” He resisted the urge to cough and kept the bullfrog voice going as well as he good.

“ _Hosanna, Superstar!”_ The chorus sang from backstage, practically tingling in excited for Bridon to stride up to DogPoo and Token.

“ _Listen to that howling mob of blockheads in the street. A trick or two with lepers, and the whole town’s on its feet! He is dangerous.”_ Token might have had a bit of a martyr complex. Bridon and DogPoo both got similar looks of intense concentrations on their face when they sang like it was too unnatural for their voices to go so low but they didn’t want to betray any struggle.

“ _Jesus Christ Superstar. Tell us that you’re who you say you are.”_

_“The man is in town right now to whip up some support,”_ Bridon announced, gripping Token’s right shoulder.

DogPoo was at his left shoulder to sink his nails in. _“A rabble rousing mission that I think we must abort. He is dangerous_.”

“ _Jesus Christ Superstar.”_

_“He is dangerous.”_ DogPoo and Bridon repeated into his ears like snakes.

Bridon grabbed him and directed his attention to the right of the stage. _“Look Caiaphas, they’re right outside our yard.”_

_“Quick, Caiaphas, go call the Roman guard!”_ DogPoo strode forward, and Token braced himself for another line that always felt like it would be his vocal chord’s last.

_“No, wait. We need a more permanent solution to our problem.”_ Yeah, that voice was going to fall apart really soon. Wendy was looking delighted with the rehearsal, and Token hated to let her down by becoming mute forever.

_“What then to do about Jesus of Nazareth? Miracle wonder man, hero of fools.”_

Bridon, too, strode away from Token to occupy the stage, printing his words in the air. _“No riots, no army, no fighting, no slogans.”_

_“One thing I’ll say for him, Jesus is cool,_ ” Token responded, unable to hold back from a desperate cough after his line.

DogPoo glanced at him sympathetically, “ _We dare not leave him to his own devices. His half-witted fans will get out of control_ ,” He smirked at the chorus backstage as he swaggered towards them.

_“But how can we stop him? By leaps every minute, he’s top of the pole.”_

Token stopped their movement with a firm wave of his arm, _“I see bad things arising. The crowd crown him king, which the Romans would ban. I see blood and destruction,_ ” Token gasped for air, his voice becoming raspier by the second, and thanked God privately for when DogPoo and Bridon’s voices come in to join his, “ _Our elimination because of one man. Blood and destruction because of one man.”_

DogPoo’s face lit up as he whipped a pair of John Lennon sunglasses out of the front pocket of his blazer, a kind donation from the Token Black Charity. _“What then to do about this Jesus mania?_

Bridon fell and slid on his knees like a poor impression of a rockstar. _“How do we deal with with the Carpenter King?”_

_“Where do we start with the man who is bigger,_ ” he stuck on the glasses and stumbled backwards like he was suddenly stoned, “ _than John was when John did… his baptism thing.”_

Token wripped the glasses off his face, _“Fools! You have no perception! The stakes we are gambling are frighteningly high,”_ He sang the line, and the expression of shock must have been clear on his face as his voice became a shallow rasp that Wendy stiffened. _“We must crush him completely_ ,” Token tried valiantly to finish the song sounding like Lord Voldemort. “ _So like John before him, this Jesus must die.”_ He tossed the glasses on the floor, refusing to step on them until the dress rehearsal and performances in light of Butters’ total lack of budgeting skills.

He simply gave up on the idea of finishing the chorus. DogPoo and Bridon brought it home, but Token simply stood with them and massaged his throat.

“Jesus, just stop the song!” Wendy demanded. “Token, why didn’t you tell me this has been _that_ had on your voice?”

Token shrugged helplessly.

“You obviously need time to heal! Oh my God, what if you’re not better for the performance?”

He stared at her in annoyance. There were more important problems than his inability to fill his role in _Jesus Christ Superstar_.

Nichole elbowed her way out of the chorus backstage to run up to Token. “Shit, we need to get you to a doctor. You need something for your throat, Token.”

Wendy pinched her brow like this whole thing was giving her a headache. Token quickly realized that she was just trying to scheme her way into making this not put his musical rehearsals back a few weeks. “Okay, Token, DogPoo is going to fill in for you for the next few rehearsals as an understudy.”

“I already have a part in this song.” He gave her a weird look. It _was_ weird to ask Token’s right hand man to be his understudy. DogPoo’s role was a necessary appendage of his own.

Wendy tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Stan, will you fill in for DogPoo until Token is better? If it seems like we need someone else to take the role, we’ll figure out understudies.”

“Aw, Wendy, do I have to?” Stan glanced away from the rest of his bandmates to frown at Wendy. “Make Gary do it.”

“I’ll do it!” He replied enthusiastically, and Stan pointed at him and nodded.

“See? He loves the idea! You can’t rehearse these songs without guitar.”

“Well, I actually know your bits on piano.”

Stan also pinched his brow and sighed. “Just work with me a little here? I don’t want to sing.”

Gary nodded and smiled at Wendy. “I’ll do the role!”

Token wondered if Gary had been conditioned at a young age to have a perfect disposition or if a mad scientist had spliced his genes with those of a golden retriever. Either way, humans as good as Gary weren’t supposed to exist. Stan smiled at him gratefully, and Gary nodded at him like he was fairly ambivalent to the look.

Wendy exhaled in relief and nodded. “Okay, Token, your only job is to get better. Nichole is right. You need to go to the hospital. You can probably even pick up some codeine cough syrup for the _rest of the cast_ ,” Wendy spat bitterly. Nichole looked a little ashamed.

What was going on during the other half the cast’s rehearsals? Jesus. Token spent so much time with just DogPoo and Bridon, he almost forgot that the majority of the cast was doing something completely different.

It did make sense. Kenny was in those rehearsals.

Nichole nodded and led Token by the hand off the stage. She let Token lean his head onto hers in exhaustion and smiled slightly.

Wendy beamed at Nichole. “You look like a perfect Mary right now.”


	6. Hosanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Leonard Cohen  
> He was the best of us.

The cast thought that the band had formed a clique apart from them – that was both true and untrue. _Everyone_ had formed a clique apart from them. DogPoo was the only actor to join the clique of musicians and backstage crew, notably lacking the egomaniacal presence of Butters Stotch, and he couldn’t have been happier about that development.

The band was tame. The actors had Kenny McCormick acting as a minor drug pusher, and many were constantly barred out or stoned for rehearsals. They got pumped up for their rehearsals by loud speakers used to blast out Yung Thug. The band spent their free time celebrating the life and work of Leonard Cohen.

“DogPoo should take over singing,” Gary said cheerfully, giving Stan a nudge in the ribs to stop playing.

Stan paused and nodded. DogPoo felt everyone’s gaze shift to him without hesitation. “Do you know “Suzanne”?”

DogPoo coughed out a nervous agreement, and Stan silently returned to picking at his guitar. Esther, Lola, and Milly had gathered around him, nodding along sadly to the music, and Kevin, David and Jamal all had discarded their instruments awhile ago to watch Stan and Gary play.

The backstage crew looked notably moved by DogPoo’s smooth vocals. Dougie got teary eyed until Jimmy gave him a nudge in the ribs, and Scott Malkinson rested his head on Dougie’s shoulder comfortingly.

“I don’t even care about Leonard Cohen,” Kevin admitted in a quietly awestruck voice.

Gary smiled proudly. “That’s Stan and DogPoo _making_ you care.”

“He died too young,” Milly sniffed out, and Esther shook her head, muttering something about being eighty years old.

“Come on, everyone. Let’s do “Hallelujah” if DogPoo and Stan will humor us some more,” Gary said with a slight smile. Stan beamed down at his guitar, waiting for DogPoo to answer.

DogPoo eyed Stan curiously. The boys may have never made time to pay attention to him, but he had nothing to do other than pay attention to them. Stan’s new stoic role was so clearly forged weakly, it almost made him laugh. The others seemed not to notice as they got pulled in by the music, but DogPoo clearly did.

At a certain point during the song, Ruby Tucker and Karen McCormick appeared from the costume wing and sat down quietly to watch the remainder of the song. “ _I did my best, it wasn’t much. I couldn’t feel so I tried to touch. I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you, and even though it all went wrong, I’ll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah._ ”

The other kids chorused “Hallelujah” with him for the remainder of the song, and he saw visible tears pouring down Karen’s face. Ruby was trained to an expression as apathetic as usual – one DogPoo didn’t think was a disguise – but Karen’s emotions were as open as Ruby’s were closed.

The song ended with Gary clapping Stan on the shoulder in support. “Thanks for doing that for me, man. It meant a lot.”

“He’s your favorite,” Stan mumbled. “I’m… sorry for your loss. I don’t know what I’d do if Paul McCartney died.”

Gary shrugged. “This is what he would’ve wanted, anyway.”

“Great guy,” Karen piped up thoughtfully from the outskirts of the circle.

God, DogPoo liked these students so much more than the actors. Red had invited him to a party for the cast later that night, and he dreaded leaving this group so go dive in with those kids.

Then again, he had never had the community the band offered him, and he was loving every second of it. Maybe he would love finally being included by the other actors in the play.

He doubted it, though.

It felt like snapping out of a daze as Stan set his guitar to the side, and Gary glanced down at it sadly. “Those were all of his songs I know,” Stan admitted, looking guilty for his lack of knowledge of Gary’s favorite musician.

“It’s okay. That was perfect.”

DogPoo smiled as the band began a hushed conversation about Leonard Cohen’s music, eventually leading into a conversation about the musical and cast as most conversations seemed to do. Even when talking about _Jesus Christ Superstar_ , they were less annoying than the other actors.

“Wendy wants me on stage for “Damned for All Time”,” Stan was saying bitterly. “I just play there while Kenny walks around. She said she saw it in some adaptation and can’t think of anything better to do with the time.”

“I can go on if you don’t want to,” Milly suggested sweetly, but Stan gave her a sharp look.

“It’s lead guitar’s role. I can do it. I just don’t really want to leave the band pit.”

“It’s a scary place out there,” DogPoo agreed to Stan and Gary’s abrupt laughter. After a few seconds, the whole band was laughing, and DogPoo felt a swell of pride in his chest. He _never_ said the right thing.

Lola smiled at him warmly. “I’m glad you’ve joined the right side, DogPoo. I wish we’d had you around since day one.”

DogPoo smiled back, finally not feeling dramatically uncomfortable by the newfound attention from girls he’d been receiving. This didn’t feel predatory and vapid. These girls had welcomed Jamal into their clique due to only his musical ability. DogPoo was, bare minimum, more attractive than that dude.

He liked talent being the thread that connected all the musicians rather than being a selfish possession of an actor that was used like currency on- and off-stage.

“I said I’d go to a cast party later tonight,” DogPoo admitted begrudgingly. “I’m not really looking forward to it.”

“I’ll be there,” Stan said reassuringly. “Gary?”

Ruby raised a perfectly manicured hand. “We’ll be there, too.”

Gary nodded, and, to DogPoo’s surprise, the other girls in the band agreed. It wouldn’t be so bad if all these nice people were there. He was a little surprised two freshman and sophomore girls had been invited, but there was no telling with Ruby. She might have simply heard there was a party and decided to go with Karen in tow. It had become pretty clear from Ruby’s first day working on costumes that Karen needed a tough girl to latch onto for friendship. DogPoo was glad she’d found it. She was a lot less abrasive than her older brother.

“We can drink away all our grief,” Stan said lightly, and Gary snorted.

“That’s not exactly how I operate, but I’ll join you while _you_ drink away all our grief.”

Stan nodded understandingly, looking suddenly embarrassed. That Mormon thing really always got them. It wasn’t so much having a Mormon in the crew as much as it was surprising to have _anyone_ who took their religion seriously. Kyle was the only other religious minority in the musical, and DogPoo couldn’t sense any distinction there besides consistent harassment from Eric Cartman.

Cartman had, for an inexplicable reason, never latched on to Gary as a target of his bullying. Gary was more than capable of handling Cartman’s heckling, but it simply never came. DogPoo couldn’t tell if that was Cartman actually showing an ability to recognize a superb human being or Stan’s intervention, but Gary was left consistently safe from mockery.

It would be weird if it were Stan’s intervention. He couldn’t even protect his best friend from Cartman.

Lola nudged Stan gently. “I’ll drink away my grief with you,” she responded with a giggle, and Milly and Esther immediately cracked up into their hands as Stan turned bright red and nodded. Esther whispered something to Lola, and she rolled her eyes and sighed.

“What?” Stan asked, his cheeks betraying how uncomfortable the interaction was making him.

Esther shrugged. “I was just explaining how I think that invitation was meant specifically for _Gary_. We’d all love to get drunk with you, Stan.”

Gary laughed with his typical sunny disposition, and Stan slumped his shoulders. “I guess I’ll be getting drunk with all of you,” he muttered in response.

 Ruby raised a hand, and Stan shook his head quickly. “No drinking until you’re a Junior.”

“I already drink.”

“I was talking to Karen.”

Karen giggled and nodded obediently. Stan didn’t notice her fingers crossed behind her back, but Ruby and DogPoo did. Ruby roared with laughter at a joke Stan couldn’t understand.

Before the time which had loosely been deemed a rehearsal but which was spent mostly gossiping with the rest of the backstage cast or drifting back to the music of Leonard Cohen came to an end, Gary caught up with DogPoo before he exited the door.

“I think a bunch of us might meet up at Stan’s house before the party if you want to join.”

DogPoo lit up. He was never invited to specific things like this, and entering the party with the band crew sounded much better than going by himself. “Yeah, totally! Who’s going to be there?”

He had been expecting Esther, Lola and Milly, but Gary simply responded with a simple, “I think just Kyle and Kenny. Eric, if we get unlucky, but he wouldn’t fit in the car.”

“I meant that because there are five of us. Not because of his size,” Stan added smoothly as he sidled past. “But, also, realistically, because of his size. Cartman won’t be there.”

DogPoo smiled nervously and nodded, not sure what getting ready with Kenny for a party really meant.

He had to stay calm. Stan and Gary were both going to be there, and Kyle had always been fairly respectful of him. He’d never jumped in for DogPoo’s defense unless he could use him as a symbolic battle with Cartman, but he never specifically insulted DogPoo. He just allowed him to fade into the background like the rest of the class had.

DogPoo was no longer in the background, though, and he didn’t know how excited he was about that.

 

*

 

Getting ready with Kenny didn’t prove as horrible as DogPoo had expected because Kenny already appeared to be high out of his mind. Stan and Kyle were casually sipping on beers when Gary brought DogPoo in, and Stan had a drink in DogPoo’s hand before he had time to pull his coat off.

“We’re late. Start having fun now,” Kenny commanded authoritatively before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Have fun!”

DogPoo gave him a dismissive look but guzzled the beer anyway.

If the cast versus the band was a huge distinction, both were worlds apart from the way a friend group actually operated, DogPoo found. For one thing, the boys ripped on each other a lot more than he had expected. Some of the shit they said was _mean_ , and Stan didn’t seem like the kind of person who could make fun of Kenny’s addictive tendencies while holding a beer with each hand.

Gary seemed a little bitter, thinking he had been invited specifically as a designated driver, but he drove the four of them to the party without vocal complaint. DogPoo felt a lot better the more two cent beer cans he finished.

By the time they entered the party, the rest of the senior class were on Stan and Kenny’s level of fucked up. DogPoo hung by the group he had entered with, and vignettes flashed before his eyes faster than his foggy brain could compute.

Wendy and Red were locked in some kind of serious discussion by the door, and Kenny’s eyes lit up immediately as soon as he saw her.

“Wendy!”

She looked up, an expression of pure irritation and disgust visible for a second before two smaller girls were in between Kenny and Wendy in mere seconds. “Hey, big brother!” Karen squeaked, angling Ruby with her elbow so the girl blocked Kenny from Wendy’s view. “How are you doing?”

“What are you doing here, Karen?”

“Rescuing you from embarrassing yourself,” Ruby replied seamlessly. “Show some gratitude. Anyone else here would love to watch you get rejected again.”

Kenny frowned at her. “You guys shouldn’t be at a senior party.”

Ruby shrugged. “My older brother doesn’t give a shit where I go, and I’m showing Karen the world.” She scanned Kenny’s disheveled appearance calculatingly. “I’m in charge of your costume, by the way. I’d be a little more friendly.”

“Karen won’t fuck up my costume.”

“ _She’s_ not in charge of it. What did I just say? Thank her before your costume ends up like Cartman’s.”

Kenny, looking more intimidated than DogPoo had ever seen him, muttered thanks to his sister before glancing at Ruby with a wicked glint in his eye. “What did you do to Cartman’s?”

The girls looked at each other and started giggling madly. “You’ll see in a few weeks,” Karen said knowingly.

“I want to know _now_ ,” Kenny whined, and Kyle nodded.

The girls whispered something to each other and broke away giggling. “Palm frond,” Ruby said finally.

“Palm frong,” Karen corrected, and the girls burst out in hysterics. Karen doubled over laughing, knocking Kyle’s drink out of his hand and onto his shirt and pants. Kyle started cursing automatically, and Karen sobered up in an effort to help him dry off.

Kyle pretended to ignore her inviting him to the kitchen for paper towels. “It’ll dry on its own. It’s hot as balls in here,” he muttered, wringing the beer out of his shirt and onto the floor with a splatter. “Tell us more about this _palm frong_.”

“That’s all there is,” Ruby smirked.

“Won’t stuff, um, fall out?” Stan asked nervously, glancing back at Gary to check for signs of approval or disapproval on his face.

“We have a nude body suit for him if he chooses. Plus, I highly doubt Cartman is big enough to sl-.”

Kyle immediately covered Karen’s ears as Kenny snapped, “She’s fifteen!” loudly.

Karen nudged Kyle away. “It’s a sumo suit that we didn’t blow up,” Karen explained like she had become Ruby’s designated sidekick overnight. “I’m not a child.”

“I didn’t say you were a child. I just don’t think you need to hear about Eric Cartman’s dick.”

Karen frowned. “You _obviously_ think I’m a child or you would have let me help you with the spill instead of just standing there being clearly uncomfortable.”

Kenny glanced Kyle over. “Yeah, dude, you’re fucking soaked. Just go to the kitchen.”

Kyle cast a desperate look at Kenny, which he was definitely too stoned to notice, and allowed Karen to lead him away to the kitchen.

“You can go embarrass yourself in front of Wendy now,” Ruby informed Kenny in a sweet voice, and he flipped her off. “I was desensitized to that by the age of three. Wanna get a drink?”

Kenny, looking surprised to be agreeing, nodded his head and followed Ruby into the crowd, accepting her hand as the mob of people attempted to separate them. DogPoo was left standing with Stan and Gary. Stan seemed at a loss of things to do other than drink, and Gary was waiting with a slight grin for Stan to say something like he was completely aware of the boy’s anxiety.

An arm slipped around DogPoo’s shoulders, and Red announced in a loud voice, “First bottle finished is used for spin the bottle!” before squeezing his arm like a hint and moving on to talk to her friends.

Annie, dancing on a table in the other room with a nearly finished bottle of Sky Vodka in her hand, chugged the last shot before shouting back, “We’re ready!”

DogPoo did everything he could to avoid their influence. He found himself locked in a conversation with a very inebriated Tweek Tweak about how mean Craig was being and, inexplicably, a lot of references to Kenny that DogPoo couldn’t quite disclose.

His minutes of safety were ruined by Clyde Donovan rushing up to both of them, grabbing Tweek’s arm like the world was about to end. “Red and Bebe,” he gasped for air, “have been making out for like _two minutes_.”

Oh, thank God. That meant Red hadn’t been hitting on him, and DogPoo wasn’t going to have his first kiss during a game of spin the bottle.

“Kenny!” Clyde called, grabbing the boy’s attention. He seemed to walk in a plume of smoke, and Tweek nudged him expectantly for an invitation the next time he smoked weed. “Girls! Kissing! _Two minutes!_ ”

Kenny paused, seeming to take this information very seriously. “Where?”

Clyde pointed desperately in some direction. “It’s spin the bottle, man. It’s amazing. _Two minutes_.”

“Stop finishing every sentence with “two minutes”,” DogPoo snapped. He was immediately taken aback at his own voice, but Tweek burst out laughing, and even Clyde giggled in drunken embarrassment.

“Sorry. Two minutes _and counting_.” Clyde sounded even more eager.

“Is Wendy playing?”

Clyde looked at him strangely. “Obviously not.”

Kenny nodded in determination. “I’m going to go find her. She’ll… probably want to be invited,” he explained lamely before disappearing into the crowd again.

DogPoo glanced back at Clyde and Tweek, surprised to see Token and Nichole at their sides almost immediately. Friend groups, he noted to himself, moved in packs. Craig, he also noted, did not join his friends at these parties.

Well, he supposed it was a _cast and crew_ party. It just _felt_ like the whole senior class was there, and this was undoubtedly the biggest party DogPoo had been invited to since people stopped having birthday parties with the entire grade. Craig must be hating them in a million new ways that night.

“Someone tell Token that drinking is bad for his throat,” Nichole ordered the obviously drunk boys. “You’re being irresponsible!”

“My throat is _so close_ to being back to normal, Nichole. Plus, you’ve been drinking all night!”

“I’m not protecting my voice!”

“Obviously I’m going to drink if I’m hanging out with you, and you’re drinking! That’s peer pressure, Nichole. Implicit peer pressure.”

“I liked mute Token better.”

“Nah, you missed the hell out of me.”

“Of course I fucking missed talking to you! Now I just appreciate the peace of your annoying ass being silent all the time.”

DogPoo flinched a little at their public displays of affection, but Tweek and Clyde just cooed at them like they were the most darling couple on the planet. In comparison to most of the kissing going on that night, they probably were the most darling couple on the planet.

DogPoo was sad for his generation.

 

*

 

Rehearsal sucked the next day. Wendy, apparently, had not drank, and she had no problem driving her hung over actors into the ground. DogPoo still had to fill in for Token for a few more days, and his body was slapping him in shock for not realizing what alcohol felt like the next day.

He swayed nervously on the poorly constructed balcony Butters had made for him and resisted the urge to barf on the chorus below. They were stumbling over each other as they attempted to remember their dance moves, and everyone’s voice sounded scratchier than usual as they mumbled noises, attempting to make a collective chorus of, “ _Hosanna Hey Sannna Sanna Sanna Hosanna Hey Sanna Hosanna! Hey J.C., J.C., won’t you at smile? Sanna Hosanna Hey, Superstar!_ ”

DogPoo gripped the edge of the balcony and leaned over the stage. “ _Tell the rabble to be quiet; we anticipate a riot. This common crowd is much too loud_ ,” he sang deeply in a voice really only Token could come close to matching. “ _Tell the mob who sing your song that they are fools, and they are wrong. They are a curse._ ” He mentally prepared himself to drop his voice as low as it could go, “ _They should disperse.”_

DogPoo sighed out in relief as his time came and past without him accidentally puking on the actors. He didn’t want them to think they were doing _that_ badly. At worst, this performance warranted a respectful barf in a bucket.

Tweek descended the back stairs, the rest of the crowd parting to let him through as they sang the chorus again, getting a better grasp on the lyrics this time through.

“ _Why waste your breath moaning at the crowd?_ ” Tweek asked, the only cast member looking completely restored the morning after the party. The energy inside that boy was something remarkable. “ _Nothing can be done to stop the shouting. If every tongue were stilled, the noise would still continue! The rocks and stones themselves would start to sing.”_

He sang with the chorus as four boys unsteadily hoisted Tweek to their shoulders in celebration. For a second, Tweek looked genuinely terrified for his safety. DogPoo didn’t blame him. He was supported by Butters’ flimsy craftsmanship, and Tweek was lifted up by four hung over underclassmen.

“ _Sing me your songs, but not for me alone.”_ Tweek breathed out in relief as the boys set him down. “ _Sing out for yourself for you are blessed. There is not one of you who cannot win the kingdom. The slow, the suffering; the quick, the dead!”_ He joyfully danced with the chorus as they sang again before his voice faltered, and the crowd continued to sing to him.

“ _Hey, J.C., J.C., won’t you die for me?”_

Tweek stood and looked around the dancers in fear before Wendy called “cut” in a somewhat satisfied voice. DogPoo was surprised.

“I saw most of you acting like drunk assholes last night so I wasn’t surprised about what I was walking into,” Wendy snapped to the chorus. “I’m glad that our _leads_ can both keep it together for a rehearsal.” She gave DogPoo and Tweek smiles of approval. “The chorus needs a lot more work.”

“How are we supposed to remember these fucking words?” A voice snapped, and DogPoo twisted around so he could see Red’s mussed appearance. “You’re giving us the most repetitive song in the fucking world.”

“Write a better chorus, and it’s in. Your song is tomorrow, Red, so I suggest you fix this attitude before that point. I’m not going to deal with your bad moods.”

Red cursed under her breath and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Jenny patted her shoulder comfortingly, hiding a smirk to the best of her abilities.

“I suggest all of you fix your attitudes,” DogPoo snapped before he even knew it was his own voice. Luckily, the balcony added a lot of credibility to his position, and people stepped back respectfully to crane their necks up to look at him.

“What?”

DogPoo’s knuckles were practically white as he grasped the bars of the balcony. “You’re all letting this musical make you act like animals. That, or you’ve always acted like this to your friends.” He cleared his throat. “So I suggest you all fix your attitudes. You’re here to sing and dance. Not alienate all of your friends.”

Wendy’s mouth opened in surprise, and Tweek walked out to the front of the stage so he could see up to where DogPoo was standing. The rest of the cast looked like they weren’t sure whether or not they were hurt, but Tweek just looked delighted as he started applauding DogPoo.

With the lead’s guidance, more of the cast started applauding until even Wendy and Red had to give in.

Tweek nodded at DogPoo gratefully, and DogPoo flashed back a similar smile.


	7. Simon Zealotes / Poor Jerusalem

“You can’t take me for a test drive! This isn’t a car dealership! I’m not a Sephora product! I’m not Whole Foods free samp-.”

“Red, you’re getting a little hysterical.”

“You’re getting a little hysterical!”

“I never told you it was a test drive!”

Red pushed Bebe back. “I do not get used for experimentation.”

Bebe followed her quickly into the school, jogging to keep up with Red’s long strides. “I didn’t mean to give you the feeling that it was that!”

“But it was that.”

“It was a game! That’s what happens in spin the bottle!”

Red rounded on Bebe, and the other girl cringed back. “And did it occur to you that other girls didn’t kiss for so long people left the game? You can act like a slutty college girl all you want, but you can’t do it with _me_.”

“I was acting like a slut? You threw the party to hook up with DogPoo!”

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Absolutely everyone!” Bebe cried as Red advanced on her.

“Well, that’s just completely untrue,” Red spat. “Red Tucker does not demean herself to throwing parties to get someone’s attention.”

“Is that really your last name?”

“Hardly the topic, Bebe!”

“It just really seems like you did. I think you threw it to get _my_ attention, though. I wish you’d just admit it so we could move past it.”

“What exactly does “move past it” mean?” Red snarled back. She would never, in the deepest part of herself, admit if she had done that. She knew Bebe was a bitch for being so egotistical as to suggest that, though. Red also got a bad feeling that Bebe was moving past something she didn’t actually want to move past.

Bebe shrugged innocently. “I mean… it’s really okay if you’re gay, Red.”

“Can everyone stop acting like they found something out about me before I did?”

Bebe blinked slowly. “You mean you are?”

Red sneered. “I just don’t think gender fucking matters. Sex is completely meaningless. But. Yes. I do _like_ girls. Boys, I can barely stand.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It doesn’t seem relevant.”

“It does if you,” Bebe lowered her voice to a whisper, “ _like me_ ”.

Red felt her stomach clench up. “Lucky for both of us that I don’t, then?”

“O-Okay.”

“You could spend some time getting over yourself, though. It’s not a flattering look on someone with so little to get over.”

Bebe elbowed her way past Red. “Cool if you want to act like you were just drunk, but we both know. This is a stupid reason to end a friendship, but I never put stupidity past you.”

“That means a lot coming from the dumbest-.” Red was cut off by Bebe stalking down the hall ahead of her with her head down. Red’s stomach dropped. That interaction had gone… better than expected. Red was overall fairly pleased with the outcome. At least that bitch would avoid her.

Speaking of bitches, Jenny Simon immediately slung her arm around Red’s shoulders before she had time to process Bebe’s disappearance. “Time for our costume fittings?”

“Red, I’m not one of the women,” Red said curiously. Jenny feigned surprise.

“Right! I totally forgot. Want to come watch us anyway? It’s your cousin.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about my cousin.”

Jenny shrugged. “I like her a lot. She may be my favorite Tucker.”

“You’re welcome to her,” Red muttered. A visit from Jenny was not exactly what she needed or wanted right now. “She’s a cool little girl. Everyone will be impressed your best friend is a freshman.”

“A really cool freshman,” Jenny agreed.

“So what do you really want, Jenny?” Red asked abruptly, stopping next to her locker. Jenny knew she wasn’t playing one of the women, and Jenny never approached people without ulterior motives to make them feel shitty.

Jenny frowned a little. “I just wanted to talk to my best friend! We haven’t talked since you lezzed out.”

“ _What_?”

“At your party! With Bebe! As your best friend, I expect to know these things when they happen.” Jenny leaned against the locker next to her with an expectant smile. “How was your little exploration?”

Red rolled her eyes. “I like dicks. What more can I say?”

Jenny pouted. “I expected a more fun story than you being drunk and horny.”

“You’re getting a boring story,” Red muttered. She struggled to keep her face completely apathetic. Those hours in front of the mirror had not been wasted. “You had days to ask me about this.”

“Yeah, but those days didn’t involve Bebe storming away from you.”

Red hid the look of recognition like a pro. “Bebe storms away from most people. A role has never gone to someone’s head more than hers.”

Jenny nodded understandingly. “She’s a moody bitch.”

Red flipped her off. “Don’t be a pretend sympathetic friend to both sides. I know that’s what you do, Jenny.” A day in which Jenny didn’t get to participate in being the center of the drama was a day wasted in her eyes.

“I would never! I think Bebe sucks! I’ve been waiting for you to get over being her friend _forever_.” Jenny grinned and squeezed Red’s arm. “Now you can know who your real friends are.”

Red glared back at Jenny without a trace of trust, but she forced herself to give a plastic smile. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

 

*

 

Ruby rooted through her bag relentlessly with an annoyed look on her face. “Craig, did you take my colored pencils?” She leaned back on her heels with her sketchbook next to her to glare at her brother.

“Oh, I did. They’re upstairs. Dull as hell now, though.”

“Do you own a fucking pencil sharpener?”

“Why would I have a pencil sharpener? I don’t own any pencils.”

Ruby sighed loudly and stalked up the stairs, leaving Red and Craig alone sprawled over the couches of the Tucker living room. “She’s taking her role way too seriously,” Craig granted. “It’s just _costumes_.”

Red snorted. “You’ve clearly never seen yourself planning a photo shoot.”

“Better that than _Jesus Christ Superstar_.”

“Just do the fucking lighting, man. Clyde and Token told me their suggestion, and they’re totally right. Butters is doing it right now, and he’s a piece of shit. Be a part of something.”

“I could name a million things I’d rather be a part of.”

“So be a part of any of them!”

Ruby emerged victoriously with her set of of PrismaColor pencils and stomped back down the stairs. “Buy me a pencil sharpener by tomorrow or you will pay.”

Craig faked a look of terror. “What are you going to do to me? Make me an ugly costume? I’ve heard that threat, by the way. It’s very stupid.”

“You better make me a hot costume,” Red grunted through another mouthful of chips. She _did_ know who her real friends were now. They consisted of Jenny Simon and her cousins. Red, for the life of her, could not explain why she missed Heidi so much, but she had to spend some time with _someone_ who wasn’t an asshole. Heidi was the sweetest girl Red knew. Jenny, Craig and Ruby had left a bad taste in her mouth.

Ruby nodded obediently. “I’m doing Kenny’s tonight. Your rehearsal is coming up soon, right? I’ll design yours after I see it.”

“Thursday.”

Ruby flashed her a thumbs up. “I’ll make sure you look better than Bebe.”

“You’re a babe, Ruby.”

Craig snorted. “This is what I meant about this musical turning you all into assholes.”

“No, Craig, we were assholes _before_ this musical,” Red corrected him. “This is just giving us a creative outlet to express our shittiness. It’s like Trump’s presidency.”

Ruby nodded.

“Our nation is in mourning,” Craig responded in his nasally voice, and Red and Ruby immediately cracked up. Ruby nodded again in agreement, and Red laughed harder. “This isn’t funny yet.”

“Craig, you’re a white male. You’re so fine,” Ruby assured him.

“I’m _gay_.”

Ruby paused, and Red leaned forward like she had misheard. “Oh. Right. I always forget that part.”

Craig spread his arms open wide. “Are you kidding me? I came out and everything! It was a big deal at the time!”

“Key words: at the time.” Red grinned, and Craig flipped her off.

“Studies say it’s genetic,” Craig spat back. This time it was Red’s turn to flip him off.

“Studies say it’s everything!” Red grinned. “Stop trying to drag me down with you. I’m already a woman.”

“Our nation is in _mourning_ , Craig,” Ruby added in a hurt and shocked voice then hid some snickering in her leave.

“Yeah, Craig. Jesus. This isn’t funny yet.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “You two are so full of shit. Family reunion over.” He stood up and stretched. “I’m gonna go play WoW in my room. Have a _great_ evening, ladies.”

Red batted her eyes. “Better now that you’re gone, sweetie.”

Craig mumbled something indistinguishable and lumbered up the stairs. Red and Ruby exchanged a second of eye contact before they burst out laughing.

“I forgot my brother was gay!” Ruby gasped out.

Red cackled loudly. “You’re literally the worst sibling in the world.”

They both doubled over laughing for awhile before Red started to catch her breath. “Okay. Tone it down now. We’ve laughed at him long enough.” She breathed in and out calmly then promptly fell back into a fit of giggles.

“I’ve got it. I’m composed now,” Ruby insisted as she struggled to keep a straight face. “Would food help?”

“I’ll choke if I start laughing. Show me your costume designs. That should be boring enough.” Red gestured for Ruby to join her on the couch, and Ruby frowned in annoyance but consented to bringing her sketchbook over to Red.

“I’ve only done Kenny,” Ruby muttered. “And some apostles.”

Red raised her eyebrow in interest as she skimmed through the quick sketches. She landed on a perfect sketch of Kenny in black combat boots, tight black jeans, and a black top that was simply long tasseled sleeves and a string that tied across his chest. Next to it, the same outfit had been drawn in white. “Cuz he comes back as an angel,” Ruby explained simply.

                                                                                                           

*

 

There came a time for every show to rehearse a number all the way through. It was always dreaded, and with Wendy as their director, it was downright feared. No one asked Red if she wanted her song to be the first full song to use choreography and the entire band, but apparently that was the voice Wendy and Butters had made. Sally had seemed exceptionally pleased with Red’s dancing skill (especially in comparison to her singing ability), and Red wouldn’t be surprised if that bitch had been the one to suggest the rehearsal.

She braced herself as she heard David and Esther’s horns mark the beginning of the song. Red glanced down the the orchestra pit, where they all seemed grimly set on making sure _they_ weren’t the ones to fuck up this rehearsal. Wendy had destroyed Bebe and Kenny during previous rehearsals, and even Red didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that.

On cue, she and the other apostles cheered loudly and jumped to the front of the stage as Gary’s piano began to pick up where the horns had left off. The apostles were doing a fucking shit job. Red got to stay on a bleacher with Tweek where she could do the kicks and spins without bumping into another person, but the others were not so lucky.

“ _Christ you know I love you. Did you see I waved? I believe in you and God so tell me that I’m saved_.” The chorus repeated, dancing like maniacs around Tweek. “ _Jesus, I am with you. Touch me, touch me, Jesus. Jesus, I am on your side. Kiss me, kiss me, Jesus_.”

Red didn’t think she should be forced to learn the choral role for her own song, but Wendy had insisted. Red was one of the better dancers they had anyway. Tweek and Bebe both had absolutely no control over their bodies, and Kenny required too much focus on his vocals to dance to the best of his abilities.

In a second, Red was at Tweek’s shoulder like the red-haired devil, spelling out her words for him. “ _Christ, what more do you need to convince you that you’ve made it and you’re easily as strong as the filth from Rome who rape our country and who’ve terrified our people for so long_?”

The chorus came in again repeating their lines, and Red tore herself away from Tweek to dance the same fucking dance they had to do for every chorus. As she glanced up at the door to the theater for her solo, she noticed Ruby and Craig leaning casually against the open doors watching her performance.

Simply having an audience was enough to encourage Red as she grabbed Tweek by the shoulder and advanced on him. “ _There must be over 50,000 screaming love and more for you. Every one of 50,000 would do whatever you ask them to.”_ She smirked as she stepped away from Tweek and swept her arm across where the audience would be sitting. _“Keep them yelling their devotion, but add a touch of hate at Rome. You will rise to a greater power. We will win ourselves a home! You’ll get the power and the glory forever and ever and ever_.” She stuck her fist in the air, and the other apostles let out a loud cheer as they began to repeat her final words. Red grabbed at Tweek in delight and directed his attention to the chorus.

Tweek stood by and watched in horrified attention. His gaze drifted to the back of the theater, and Red noticed his spine stiffen as he caught sight of Craig watching the rehearsals. Red didn’t really see what the problem was. Yeah, Craig was going to be a negative asshole, but Tweek performed in front of Kenny almost every day, and he didn’t seem too nervous about that.

“ _Neither you, Simon, nor the 50,000, nor the Romans, nor the Jews, nor Judas, nor the twelve, nor the priests, nor the scribes, nor doomed Jerusalem itself_ ,” Tweek began as the music soothed into nothing but Gary’s piano. “ _Understand what power is. Understand what glory is. Understand at all. Understand at all_.”

Red and the other apostles dropped at Tweek’s feet. Red had time to sneak a glance at her cousin, who was watching Tweek with open awe on his face. Tweek was turning red at he stared into everyone’s supplicant faces. “ _If you knew all that I knew, my poor Jerusalem, you’d see the truth, but you’d close your eyes. But you’d close your eyes_.” Tweek bent down to stroke Red’s cheek gently. “ _While you live, your problems are many, my poor Jerusalem. To conquer death, you only have to die_.”

Tweek straightened up and stared dead into Wendy’s eyes as he repeated, “ _You only have to die_.”

In the back, Ruby burst into applause. It was probably more out of familial obligation than genuine excitement, but Red’s chest puffed out in pride as she heard the clapping coming from Ruby and Craig.

Wendy turned around to glance at them in irritation. “This is a closed rehearsal.”

“I’m doing Simon’s costume,” Ruby responded promptly.

“And Craig?”

“Am I not allowed to have a consult? God.”

“I have a passion for fashion,” Craig added dully. Not that it wasn’t true. Aesthetics were basically everything to Craig. He would just never waste that skill on a musical. It was a shame. Red had seen his portfolio for schools, and she was sad to say that her cousin genuinely _was_ talented.

Ruby tapped her bottom lip as she examined Red. “How do you feel about the apostles all wearing 80s workout gear for this song? We’re talking leg warmers. We’re talking spandex.”

“Talk to Karen,” Wendy said dismissively, and Ruby shrugged like Wendy had just given her permission to do whatever she wanted. Wendy turned her attention back to the stage and nodded approvingly. “Red and Tweek, you did a really good job learning this song on time. As for everyone else, _stop_ hurting each other when you try to dance too close together on stage!”

“I didn’t choreograph this so you could accidentally punch each other in the face,” Sally added in a hurt voice like they had destroyed all her work.

“It’s a very small stage,” Nichole said, nursing a wound to her cheek that another one of the girls had inflicted on her.

“Sorry, babe!” Heidi called from across the stage, and Nichole waved her off like it was no bother.

“It wouldn’t be so small if _someone_ hadn’t decided that we need a balcony, steps in the back, and steps from the front,” Jenny spat, glaring at Butters accusingly.

Butters frowned at her. “Every addition to the set is a necessary addition.”

“I kind of agree,” Tweek said weakly. “That balcony just seems… poorly constructed.”

“I don’t want Token walking on it.”

Butters sniffed and leaned back in his seat, pulling his beret down over his eye. “I used the most expensive tape I could find.”

“It’s made out of tape?”

“And wood.”

Craig flashed a glare in Tweek, Clyde and Red’s direction. “Do either of you have to walk on it?” Red and Clyde shook their heads, but Tweek nodded fearfully. Craig rolled his eyes. “I’ll fix the fucking balcony. Jesus Christ, Butters. Stop putting people’s lives in danger.”

“You haven’t even seen the harness he made for Judas’s death,” Clyde snorted. “If that harness doesn’t accidentally kill Kenny, I owe you ten dollars.”

“That’s a horrible bet!” Heidi cried, and Clyde rolled his eyes. Heidi had lost all her credibility among the boys of South Park High when she lost her virginity to Eric Cartman. _No one_ wanted Cartman’s sloppy seconds.

Except Wendy. It seemed like an unfair number of people liked Wendy considering what an anal retentive bitch she was being, but maybe Red’s estimation was skewed by her quick rejection from Kenny at her party as he sought out Wendy.

He was definitely _not_ the person she expected to be in love with an anal retentive bitch.

Red pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned like she was still hung over from that fucking party. She was. It was just an emotional hangover.

“Shall we do it from the top? Tweek, you can sit it out until the chorus has gotten the dance down,” Wendy spat meanly. Red raised a hand, but Wendy shook her head. “Sorry, Red. You count as the chorus.”

Red let out a dramatic moan of opposition as she joined the other girls on stage. Nichole looked delighted to be in a song with all the women, and all the women looked pissed to be in this musical at all. Heidi simply looked hurt. Jenny was pissed, and Annie and Sally had separated themselves from Jenny as well as possible.

That girl would be out of the friend group in a week if Red weren’t so fucking attached to her. Plus, there was something to be said for having a friend a million times more awful than she was. It made all of her transgressions look like blips compared to the constant shit being spewed from Jenny’s mouth.

Plus, with Bebe out of the picture, there was a very real possibility that Jenny could become Red’s only female friend. Wendy seemed to hate Bebe too, but she was not on the market for new friends, and Bebe was the unmistakable leader of the group.

Red really needed to keep her friendship options open. She couldn’t spend more time hanging out with Craig and Ruby. She simply refused. Familial connections were for people who couldn’t make social connections. She also had a sneaking feeling that Craig hadn’t come to watch her rehearse as Tweek moseyed to the back of the theater and joined the two in rapt discussion.

Ruby wasn’t in charge of Tweek’s costume so that had to mean he had something to say to Craig. That was good, at least. If Red was losing all of her own friends due to her own stubbornness, it sucked how stubborn she was. If Craig lost all his friends to _Jesus Christ Superstar_ , it just sucked. Craig had tried to take a stance, and it was unpopular.

On the bright side, he hadn’t voted for Trump. He had only chosen not to try out for the musical. Red had to pick her battles. She had already pushed Cartman into a locker again and again.

She was on the hunt to figure out who else had voted for him, but Cartman was the only person to advertise it. The majority of Red’s friends were women, and Nichole’s boyfriend was black, so she had very few people to take her rage out on.

Sometimes she was so happy Cartman existed. She saw his appeal (even if it wasn’t what Heidi saw in him). The kid was like a punching bag at the gym, and Red didn’t even need to pay for a membership.


	8. Pilate's Dream

“Kenny?” Kyle called hesitantly as he knocked at the door of the McCormick house. “Kenny, let me in! It’s cold as balls out here!”

There was silence on the other side of the door until Kyle could hear feet padding over and the door unlocking, revealing Karen McCormick in… well…. Kyle had thought they owned that nightie for Kenny’s own penchant for cross-dressing. Karen should be wearing Victorian nightgowns until the age of eighteen. He and Kenny had decided on this (without her blessing, of course) long ago.

“He’s not here. Check Bebe’s. Balls are also warm,” She corrected him lightly with a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Why didn’t you call before you came over?”

Kyle looked horrified. “He left you alone? There was a lynching two counties over last night!”

Karen pointed at the color of her skin and raised an eyebrow.

“Not the issue, Karen! You shouldn’t be in this house alone at night.”

She stepped back and kept the door held open for Kyle. “Okay. So come watch over me? I’ll make sure to credit you if I don’t get lynched,” She giggled playfully in that horribly politically incorrect way Kenny always did.

Kyle frowned at her but entered the house and pulled off his jacket and hat. “This is really because Kenny’s being an immature asshole.”

“I’m sure.”

Kyle scanned her outfit scornfully before marching deliberately over to the couch. “Your house doesn’t even have central heating, Karen. You’re going to catch a cold.”

“I feel fine,” Karen declared flippantly before dropping on the couch next to Kyle. Kyle, in pure annoyance, put his coat around her shoulders. Now she looked a little more safely preteen.

Then she shrugged the fucking coat off.

“I’m warm, Kyle! Stop being such a mom! I’m not going to get lynched, and I’m not going to freeze to death.”

Kyle held his hands up innocently. “I was just trying to help.”

Karen’s scowl softened. “Sorry. Kenny’s just been treating me with extra kiddie gloves since I started hanging out with all his friends for the musical, and it’s so irritating. I took it too far.”

“Right. I’ve _always_ treated you with kiddie gloves.”

“Of course, and if it’s not _because_ of the musical, it’s fine then, isn’t it?”

Kyle stared at her suspiciously as she managed to perfectly echo the cadence of his speech back at him. Kenny was undeniably clever, but it couldn’t hold a candle to his sister’s wit. She could read people at a glance and mirror their tics back to them within moments of meeting them. She had known Kyle her whole life. “Just meet us halfway, Karen. Kenny’s trying to help you.”

“I am meeting you halfway. Kenny says I’ll die if I sleep naked in this house, and he really acted like he was sure.”

Kyle recoiled in surprise. “Victorian nightgowns!”

“What?”

“Nothing. Don’t sleep naked, Karen. I can literally see my breath in here.” Kyle blew out to illustrate his point, and Karen giggled and did the same. The clouds met in the middle and dispersed around them. “This isn’t funny!”

“It’s kind of funny.” Karen grinned and leaned back against the couch. “You could help me stay warm if you really care?”

_I don’t care that much. I don’t care that much. I don’t care that much_. Kyle begrudgingly lifted his arm for Karen to snuggle underneath it with a victorious smile on her face.

“See? Now we just have to worry about getting lynched!”

“I don’t understand how you McCormicks have so much sex when you manage to ruin absolutely every mood.”

Karen’s eyebrows shot up. “There was a mood to ruin?”

“Every interaction has a mood! That’s the definition of mood.”

“Yeah, but what kind of mood did you mean?”

“Drop it, Karen.”

She chewed on her bottom lip with a large smile like she had Kyle cornered. “I can just ask Kenny what he thought about what you said? He’s probably better at interpreting than I am.”

“Fuck off!” _And don’t do that. Really don’t do that_.

She smiled and flipped over so she was straddling Kyle’s lap. “Don’t worry. I don’t really want to talk to my brother about this.”

“I-I don’t want you to either,” Kyle stuttered out before his inner cold shower could catch up with him.

Karen grinned widely. “Then we’re on the same page? Mood un-ruined?”

“Well, what I was saying was that every interaction has a mood, so it can’t really be ruined. It can only be changed. Unless, that is, you had a goal for what the mood of an interaction would be. In which case, the mood can be ruined by shifting before-.” Kyle’s desperate babbling was cut off by Karen smoothly tilting his chin up and pressing her lips against him.

“I am so surprised people think you have a penchant for giving speeches under pressure,” Karen murmured as she pressed light kisses against Kyle’s neck with each word.

Kyle squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m really good at it.”

“I’m sure. You’re doing great.” Kyle was pretty sure he felt their teeth clash against each other as Karen laughed loudly in between kisses. Was this really the McCormick charm? He just felt insulted.

She pulled back to smile at him. “So how do you feel about the nightgown now?”

“It’s fine.”

“Yeah?” She prompted.

“We’ll find real clothes for you to wear at night in the morning.”

She pretended to frown. “Oh, that was the exact opposite of the direction I meant.” She arched her spine and pulled the nightie off over her head so Kyle could see her naval, protruding ribs, and _fuck that was everything._ That was absolutely everything.

Kyle lightly ran his fingers against the notches in her spine as they continued to meet in increasingly desperate kisses, and Karen found his other hand and brought it up to her breast. She nuzzled at his neck, continuing to pepper him with light kisses as Kyle inwardly cursed the flow of blood through his body.

Then Kyle sat straight up in his bed, mouth still open as he gasped for breath and glanced around his own, empty bedroom in shock.

_Fuck_.

With a quiet groan, he maneuvered the sticky sheets off his body and pushed them in the dirty clothes basket before flopping back down on the cleared bed. He buried his face in a pillow and groaned even louder.

_This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening._

He was so creepy. He was a predatory senior, and she was a fucking sophomore. Even Kenny didn’t usually dip down into freshman and sophomore girls (probably due to the age of his sister). Kyle was going to grow up to be one of those sketchy old men who checked out high school girls.

More importantly – perhaps most importantly – Kenny was going to fucking wring his neck if he ever found out about this. Kenny thought Kyle’s brotherly relationship with Karen was adorable. It was his favorite thing. Stan, on the other hand, had tried to make a joke when Karen started “budding”, and Kenny punched him in the face.

Kyle really didn’t want to be a brother-turned-lover. That alone sounded weird. It didn’t even require a backstory to explain exactly how fucked up Kyle’s subconscious was becoming.

He also didn’t think this is what his schedule meant when he had drawn a big red box around today and written “Pilate’s Dream – Full Choreography”.

Fuck Pilate, and fuck his fucking dreams.

 

 

*

 

Flesh, blood, and bone – Karen McCormick was now kneeling at Kyle’s feet as she laced up his boots. Kenny glanced back at Kyle with a large grin on his face as he continued to shake his tassels in the air to Ruby’s permanent laughter.

“Perfect, Ruby. You did perfectly.”

Karen glanced back at Kenny’s costume and grinned widely. “Aw, it’s just as gay as you wanted!”

“Even gayer!” Kenny cried joyfully as he danced around the costume wing singing the words to “Superstar” and twirling his tassels to accentuate every sentence. Ruby, Karen, and Kyle were all laughing at his infectious enthusiasm, but Token, Bridon and DogPoo simply stood by in annoyance.

Ruby must have thought she was the luckiest costume designer in the world the day she was assigned Kenny, Bridon and DogPoo. With Kenny in full costume, she nabbed the other two by their shoulders and led them over to the clothing racks. She pulled two big conical black hats from above the clothes and shoved one on each of their heads before dropping black jeans, shirts, boots, and cloaks in their arms.

“I’m not Karen,” Ruby said firmly. “Go put your own fucking clothes on.” DogPoo rolled his eyes and stumbled away, and Ruby flashed Bridon a wink. “Let me know if you need any help, though.”

“Does anyone else think that Cartman should be the fifth villain in this fitting?” Kenny asked once he had settled down. “No offense. I just feel like I’m kinda up hyah,” Kenny held his hand in the air, “and all of you are down hyah”.

“We’re sorting out some technical glitches with Cartman’s costume,” Karen responded automatically as she straightened up, gripping Kyle’s black jeans to make the seams perfectly parallel on both sides. “Antiheroes count, too.”

Kyle’s breath hitched in his throat as Karen stretched up to reach face level with him and grabbed a thick, black felt cloak from the chair next to her and fixed it around his neck with a silver buckle. She smiled at him warmly, ignoring Kenny as he grumbled something about being a lead, and fixed a wire crown in his curls.

Karen stood back to examine her creation. “Have you considered cutting your hair?”

Kyle looked heartbroken. “You don’t like my hair?”

“It’s kind of overshadowing the crown,” Kenny added, suddenly at Kyle’s shoulder. “Let’s shave this little piggy.”

“What about dying your hair, Ken? All our leads are blonde.” Ruby frowned to herself. “I don’t like that. It’s too Aryan.”

“How is that any more racist than a solid fifty percent of Judas’s adaptations showing him black?” Kenny asked in confusion. “My hair will not grow back equally luscious.”

Kyle grinned. “Yeah, did you know da Vinci painted Judas black? All the other disciples at the dinner were white. It’s pretty fucking awful.”

Kyle and Kenny looked horrified as Karen and Ruby advanced on them, holding a razor and box of dark brown hair dye respectively. Kenny shook his head wildly. “Yes,” he said pointing at Kyle. “No,” he clarified pointing at himself. “Tweek,” he added pointing back at the box of hair dye.

Ruby shrugged and tossed the dye to Karen. “As long as someone goes brown.”

“Can we get back to the topic of me shaving my hair?” Kyle pled, and Karen shook her head with a sympathetic smile.

“It’s look great, Kyle! Sit down!” She grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him into a chair in front of her, pulling his crown off as she started the electric razor. Kyle didn’t feel like he was given an excessive amount of time to complain before a long strip of red curls fell on the ground at his feet, and he shut his eyes. “I’m leaving some! You don’t need to be so scared!” Karen chided, and Kyle actively shivered as another strip of hair fell on the floor.

Kyle felt an arm rest on his shoulder and realized Kenny had come to his other side as he felt the tassels brushing against his skin with every slight movement. “You should shave a cool pattern into it,” Kenny suggested eagerly. “No, wait! Have one of the disciples shave their hair like Skrillex, then they can shave the fish thing into their hair!”

The razor paused for a second as Karen considered this suggestion, then she just laughed and continued stripping Kyle of an afro that had been years in the making. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Hell, you can even shave my hair. It’s just staying blonde.”

“Ruby, you can shave Kenny!” Karen called, and Kyle tightened his eyelids so much he could see splotches of color.

There was a second of silence, and Kyle was pretty sure that Ruby had winked at Kenny because Ruby and Kenny immediately burst into hysterical laughter. “Skrillex me!” He demanded.

Kyle peaked an eye open to get a better idea of the damage Karen had done to his hair. He still looked like a chia pet. It was just a chia pet much newer than his previous length. Karen finished off her work with a quick kiss to the top of Kyle’s head then she fixed the wire crown in his hair again. “I think Pilate is ready.”

Token stepped forward. “I’ve been waiting ages, Karen. Just give me my costume so Kyle can go to his rehearsal.”

Karen frowned and waved at Kyle sadly, but she began rooting around in the shelves of costumes for a black leather duster. Token looked delighted as it got tossed into his hands, and he flashed a proud smile at DogPoo and Bridon.

There was a quick rapping at the door then Wendy burst in without waiting for approval. “Is Kyle here?”

Karen pointed at Kyle, and Kenny’s energy immediately melted into his poor attempt at being suave. It did probably help that he was basically shirtless. Kenny didn’t have a lot going for him, but, what he had, he had a lot of. “Wendy,” he greeted in a voice slightly deeper than his usual speaking voice.

Wendy glanced at him disparagingly. “Come on, Kyle. We’re doing “Pilate’s Dream”.”

Kyle nodded dutifully and followed her out of the costume department.

“Bye, Wendy!” Kenny called after her to absolutely no response other than Ruby and Karen’s mocking laughter.

 

*

 

Okay. It was all okay. Kyle could focus. This wasn’t _that_ bad. This was medium bad. It could have been better if Ruby and Karen weren’t there scrutinizing his rehearsal, but it wasn’t _that_ bad.

Who was he kidding? This was possibly the worst thing that had happened to Kyle in at least three months now. He was not planning on focusing. It fucking sucked that this rehearsal didn’t feature anyone other than Wendy’s full attention on him.

“Kyle, go already!”

Kyle frowned petulantly. “Give me a second.”

Stan stopped playing guitar to glare at Kyle. He, Gary and Milly had been the only three musicians to join Kyle’s rehearsal, and Kyle had made them play the same few bars before finally singing about four times now.

“Okay. I’m ready to go. Got it now.” He noticed Ruby whispering something to Karen and Karen giggling, and he missed the cue for his fifth attempt again.

Stan tossed his guitar down. “Okay, sing or let us go enjoy our afternoons, Kyle!”

“You are enjoying your afternoon,” Wendy snapped.

“Yeah, Stan. Kyle’s just shy.” Gary and Milly gave Kyle understanding looks, and Kyle groaned. He had sung this a million times. He could handle doing it a million and one times if Karen would just quit looking at him like that.

Stan frowned and picked up his guitar again to join Milly for the intro. Kyle walked slowly down the back stairs, swishing his cloak behind him. “ _I dreamed I met a Galilean… a most amazing man_.” Kyle paused to stare at the ground in confusion. “ _He had that look you rarely find – the haunting, hunted kind_.”

When he looked back at the audience with an anguished expression on his face, he caught Karen hugging her arms to her chest as she watched in rapt attention. That didn’t help. “ _I-I asked him to say what had happened, how it all began… I asked again. He never said a word as if he hadn’t heard._ ”

Kyle descended to the bottom of the stairwell. “ _And next_ ,” he added with his voice becoming steadily stronger, “ _The room was full of wild and angry men. They seemed to hate this man. They fell on him and then disappeared again… Then I saw thousands of millions crying for this man_.” He stared out into blank air with a look of horror and guilt on his face. “ _And then I heard them mentioning my name… and leaving me the blame_.”

Kyle laughed lightly and swished the cloak back, shaking his head as he feigned an exit to stage left.

Wendy had seemed pleased with the performance. As pleased as Wendy could get, which meant Kyle had to rehearse it with full choreography and band at least four more times before the musicians, costume designers, and Sally were dismissed from the room.

“Can I go yet?”

Wendy looked at Kyle with an unamused glare. “No. We have some disciplinary items I’d like to address with you.”

Kyle paused and moved into the audience, throwing his cloak to the side of the stage as he descended down the stairs. “Discipline? Wendy, you’re a musical director.”

“Well, it seems like _someone_ thought it would be funny to rip Cartman’s costume before his rehearsal so it fell apart on stage.” Wendy shuddered violently, and Kyle wrinkled his nose.

“I would _never_ subject the world to Cartman’s dick.” Kyle paused and added, “More than it already has been.”

“Why does he get naked so often?”

“I know, right?” Wendy and Kyle stared at each other with the look they reserved for each other – the complete lack of friendship but total respect that came from never having to cross circles. Wendy and Stan had broken up years ago, and it had given Wendy and Kyle to come to a position where they actually realized how much in common the two of them hand. “Have you tried asking Kenny? That seems like the kind of shit he’d pull.”

Wendy glanced down at her script angrily. “No. I haven’t, but I highly doubt he’d do that to his little sister’s work.”

Kyle shrugged. “A prank’s a prank. Have you checked to make sure Karen and Ruby didn’t set it up intentionally?”

“Karen cried.”

Kyle’s mouth parted as a surge of anger swept through him. “Okay. Are you sure Cartman didn’t do it himself because he, for some reason, believes he has something to be proud of?”

A look of understanding appeared on Wendy’s face, and Kyle nodded grimly. “He’s such an asshole!”

“You were the one to cast him in your musical.”

Wendy pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. “ _Of course_ he’d do that to his own costume. I have no idea why he wasn’t my first suspect. I’m so sorry, Kyle.”

Kyle shrugged innocently. “People always hope for the best with Cartman. It’s not your fault. The answer is _always_ to expect the worst, though.”

“I assumed I would have realized that after fifteen years with him.”

“His only redeemable quality is pretending to be redeemable.”

Wendy buried her face in her arms. “Okay. Can you let Karen know? Token, Bridon and DogPoo can be sent down to work on “This Jesus Must Die” now, too.”

Kyle gulped and nodded. _Fuck this fucking musical_.

Fuck Karen McCormick. In the non-literal way. And fuck his brain for taking that sentence in the literal way.

Kyle cracked his neck and jogged up the stairs to the costume department to give Wendy’s directions.


	9. The Temple

“I’m not doing it,” Tweek said definitively as he took a long hit of the joint Kenny had passed him. “I refuse.”

“Apparently the leads are all too Aryan. Take one for the team, buddy,” Kenny explained with a casual punch to Tweek’s shoulder. Tweek shook his head vehemently and pretended to be preoccupied by ashing the joint.

Bebe glanced at the ground as both boys fixed their eyes on her. “What?” She sneered defensively. “It’s not even a guarantee that I play Mary. I’m not dying my hair for a _maybe_.”

“Everyone knows Jesus was a white dude with long, brown hair, Tweek. You’re making this whole musical unrealistic.”

“I don’t think anyone ever mentioned Judas being blonde!”

“I’m pretty sure Mary was blonde,” Bebe piped up as Tweek handed the joint off to her. “I agree with Kenny. If anyone had brown hair, it was Jesus.”

“They were all like… Arabs or something!” Tweek squeaked.

Kenny pointed at him like he was waiting for his thoughts to sort themselves out. “I think that’s wrong, but I can’t correct you so I have to agree. Bebe?”

Bebe passed the joint back to Kenny. “I cannot dispute his argument,” she said carefully.

Kenny clapped his hands and accepted the joint. “Alright! Arab he was! Tweek, no denying you have to dye your hair now.”

“I’m not. I’m not doing it.”

“One… two… three… not it!” Kenny counted before touching his nose. Bebe quickly brought a finger to her nose, and Tweek writhed around to push himself up and take a knee.

“Fuck!”

“Tweek’s going brown,” Kenny sang as Bebe giggled madly. Tweek shook his head again. “You lost the game fair and square, Tweek. Dye your fucking hair.”

“I will not!”

“That’s not very Arabic of you,” Bebe muttered, and Kenny looked confused.

“I’m _pretty sure_ we’re getting his race wrong.” He looked around the group for support. “Is… is Arabic even a race?”

Bebe gnawed her bottom lip, and Tweek stared at his hands.

“Google?” Bebe suggested finally.

“Sure. Let me just check my smart phone- oh, wait, I have a burner phone. Let’s just say Arabic.” Kenny glanced up sharply as the back door opened, but he breathed out a sigh of relief as it turned out to be just the girls. Red, Jenny, Sally, Annie, Heidi and Nichole all joined their circle, and Kenny frowned as he pulled another joint out of an emptied pack of cigarettes. “What race was Jesus?”

“Galilean?” Heidi guessed as she dropped to Kenny’s left and shook her head politely as he handed her a joint. She grabbed it like it was dirty and passed it to Red, who accepted it gratefully.

“Middle Eastern?” Red suggested.

Tweek frowned at her. “That seems too general to be a race.”

“I _really_ don’t think he was Arabic, Tweek,” Kenny insisted.

“I’m so sure he was Middle Eastern,” Red repeated.

“He wasn’t white?” Jenny asked in confusion as the second joint reached her. “I’m pretty sure Jesus was a white dude with brown hair.”

Kenny pumped his fist in the air, and Bebe burst into applause. Tweek curled in on himself and shook his head. “Blonde hair,” he corrected in a weak voice.

“Nope. Definitely brown.”

Kenny and Bebe high fived.

Nichole looked confused and worried as the joint reached her, but she obediently took a single hit before passing it off to Annie, who showed no such hesitation. In a few seconds, the second joint had reached Nichole, and she stared at it in horror like she had no idea the rotation could move so quickly.

The door to the back opened again, and Token slipped out. He frowned at Nichole, who was balancing the joint delicately between two fingers, and shifted his glare in Kenny’s direction. “What’s up, guys?”

“What race was Jesus?” Red asked dully.

“Black,” Token responded promptly. “Nichole, come on. We have rehearsal.”

Nichole eagerly passed the next joint to Annie and pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. Token looked incredibly displeased to see her already bloodshot eyes, but he wrapped an arm around her waist to help her up the stairs. Tweek managed to hear Token hiss, “What did I say about hanging out with Kenny?” before the two of them disappeared inside.

The circle was silent for a second before Annie declared, “I don’t think he was black.”

“All in favor of Tweek growing an afro?” Kenny asked playfully, and Jenny, Bebe, and Red’s hands shot up in the air. Tweek flipped Kenny off and reached over to grab a joint from Sally before she had handed it to him.

Heidi patted Tweek on the shoulder sympathetically. “We won’t make you grow an afro.”

“We might,” Sally corrected.

“It would be a wig if anything,” Bebe added with a shrug. “Tweek’s hair is why black people need the natural hair movement.”

“It’s not my fault it’s silky!”

Kenny stroked Tweek’s hair and grinned widely. “I think it’s pretty clear that Tweek’s hair does not grow outwards. Plus, if you wanted a cast member with an afro, you should have protected Kyle’s hair before Karen got to it.”

“Kyle shaved his head?” Jenny asked in disbelief before roaring with laughter. “Which looked worse?”

“The ‘fro,” Red responded, and Jenny giggled maniacally.

Heidi nodded. “It does actually look a lot better,” she added in a meek voice.

Red snorted. “Heidi, your opinion on people’s appearances is a negative. Have you _seen_ Eric Cartman?”

“Cartman’s not ugly. He’s just fat as fuck,” Kenny corrected.

“You weren’t there when his costume split,” Red explained with a shudder.

“It was awful. He was so close to me.” Tweek buried his face in his hands, and surprisingly deep laughter rumbled out of Kenny.

Heidi frowned. “You guys are so mean to him! I bet if you were a little nicer he wouldn’t act like this all the time!”

“No. I’m pretty sure he would,” Jenny sneered.

“Plus, I heard he sliced his costume himself,” Red added. “I think he thought he had something to be proud of.”

Jenny shivered. “Fuck. Did he really?”

Kenny nodded grimly. “Karen has to remake the costume.”

“I heard he did it because he has a crush on Wendy again,” Jenny said flippantly. “He’s been obsessed with her since like third grade. Sorry, Heidi.”

Tweek accepted the joint as both Heidi and Kenny’s faces snapped up. Heidi’s bottom lip quivered dangerously, but Kenny just looked furious. “Who’d you hear that from?”

“He was talking to Butters about it,” Jenny said victoriously. “He’s a gross little devil, isn’t he?”

Kenny took the joint from Tweek and passed it to Red without taking a hit. “I have to go find Cartman,” he spat. “I’ll catch you guys later.” He gave Tweek’s head a final scratch and disappeared through the back door.

Tweek awkwardly glanced around at the group of girls surrounding him and pushed himself to his feet. “I… have to go find Clyde,” he explained lamely.

“Enjoy that Y chromosome,” Red said knowingly as Tweek jogged up the steps. “Middle Eastern.”

 

*

 

Tweek stumbled into the cafeteria for lunch a few minutes later. Token had (thankfully) left Nichole to her rehearsal, and Tweek was left with the rare opportunity to see just Clyde, Craig and Token. These opportunities hadn’t come often since the musical began, and, to be fair, they were usually fairly unpleasant.

He had a feeling that this interaction would be less unpleasant than the average – he was high out of his mind. Craig being a grumpy cat, and Token and Clyde being absorbed by their bit parts in the musical were hardly a concern.

To be fair, Tweek was _Jesus_. He shouldn’t be the calmest actor, but he and Kenny seemed to be the only two who showed absolutely no stress about their parts. Tweek wasn’t sure if Kenny had the capacity to feel stress, but he was a little curious as to where _his_ went.

“You’re stoned again, aren’t you?” Token asked in a disappointed voice. Tweek had no idea Token was so against drugs, but his short interaction with Nichole had left Tweek with a sour taste in his mouth.

Tweek nodded, and Clyde groaned. “Stop doing it before rehearsals! Wendy is starting to catch on, and she is _not_ happy.”

“When did you start smoking so much?” Craig asked in confusion.

Clyde frowned at Tweek. “Ever since Tweek started hanging out with _Kenny_ every day.”

“Kenny’s my friend!”

“Kenny is a bad influence on you.”

Tweek rolled his eyes at Token. “Thanks, dad. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Clyde, Craig and Token exchanged worried glances before Token looked at Tweek very seriously. “You know we’re not joking, right? Kenny’s a _really_ bad influence on you, Tweek. We’re just looking out for you.”

“And I’m pretty sure Kenny is more than your friend,” Clyde frowned. “I’ve watched your rehearsals. You’re supposed to have _Bebe_ be your romantic interest. Or Nichole?” He glanced at Token for approval, and Token shrugged innocently.

“No idea.”

“Bebe or Nichole. Not Judas.”

“It’s a very homoerotic musical!” Tweek squeaked, unwittingly repeating Bebe’s defense of her lack of chemistry with Tweek. It was very true. Tweek and Bebe had negative chemistry. Besides the fact that their songs were often about love, Tweek and Kenny showed much more of a connection. Even Bebe and Kenny were better than Tweek and Bebe. He just… didn’t really do relationships with girls.

Token tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Have you ever thought that you’ve _made_ it homoerotic? He has a pretty clear female love interest.”

“I’ll interpret Jesus. You interpret Caiaphas.”

“ _Tweek has a crush on Kenny_ ,” Token sang in a very deep voice, and Clyde laughed so hard Diet Ginger Ale came out of his nose. Token inched away from him. “That shit tastes like cardboard.”

“I’m on a diet.”

Token pinched Clyde’s stomach affectionately. “I feel like I’ll lose half a friend if you lose weight!”

“I was only going for five pounds, but… thanks for your input.”

“Five pounds of pure, unconditional friendship.”

Tweek glanced away from their discussion to make eye contact with Craig. He was staring down at his miserable school lunch with an enraged expression on his face, but when he caught Tweek’s eye, he just grinned. “Can I come to your rehearsal today?” He asked sweetly. Tweek furrowed his brow but nodded. Craig _never_ wanted to show an interest in _Jesus Christ Superstar_. He did show a fair amount of interest in undermining Kenny at any chance he got, though.

“Kenny’s not in this song,” Clyde murmured to Craig, and Craig shoved his face back with his palm.

“That wasn’t the point.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” Clyde feigned a look of innocence. “I just thought you should know that Kenny doesn’t have another rehearsal until the full choreography of “Damned for All Time”. Just in case that was your motive. It’s next Thursday.”

“That wasn’t my motive!”

Clyde shrugged. “Well. At least now you now. Next Thursday.”

“I’ll be there, too,” Token grunted. “He’s _really_ good in it. I think it’s better than his opening song.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen it performed,” Tweek added absent-mindedly, and Craig snapped a glare in his direction.

“I’ll come today. I don’t give a shit about when Kenny performs.”

Token raised a hand. “I just said I was in that song too.” Craig flipped Token off, and Token sighed. “Okay. Make your motives slightly less obvious.”

Tweek glanced up from his food, too stoned to register the conversation that had unfolded before his eyes and ears. “Hm?”

“Craig hates Kenny,” Clyde explained.

“With good reason. He’s turning the whole cast into drug addicts,” Token hissed, frowning down at his plate. He must have been _really_ unhappy to catch Nichole in the circle before lunch. Tweek wished he could have explained to Token how left out Nichole felt without other female apostles, but he was sure Token already knew. Tweek had gotten to know her well enough during their rehearsals to realize that Nichole had just wanted to fit in. She didn’t need Token getting angry at her for a drug she probably hadn’t even wanted to take.

Tweek smiled sleepily. “No one does his drugs unless they want to. He’s not peer pressuring people. If anything, he’s mad that everyone keeps smoking his weed and not paying him.”

“Peer pressure doesn’t have to be vocalized,” Token frowned.

Tweek raised his hands helplessly. “People are going to do the drugs they want to do. Kenny just happens to provide them.”

“Look. Tweek. We just don’t want you to get used,” Clyde explained gently. “You realize Kenny’s slept his way through at _least_ half the senior class. Craig included.”

“We don’t talk about that,” Craig grunted. “Stay away from him, Tweek. He’s bad news.”

“You guys are all assuming I like Kenny! He’s the other lead! Of course I’m spending a lot of time with him.”

The other three boys fell silent until Clyde finally asked, “So… you _don’t_ have a crush on Kenny?”

Tweek snapped a glare in Clyde’s direction. “If you would excuse me, I have some hair to dye.”

“Wait, what?” Craig asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“We’re spiking Kenny’s shampoo,” Tweek responded before grabbing his tray and standing up. “Jesus was _blonde_.”

“Jesus was definitely Middle Eastern,” Craig responded with a slight frown. “There is literally no art that depicts Jesus as blonde.”

“Now there is,” Tweek said defensively. “It’s called South Park High does _Jesus Christ Superstar_ , and Jesus is white and blonde, okay?”

“Black,” Token corrected.

“Middle Eastern.”

“I think he might’ve been Arabic,” Clyde said in confusion.

“We’ve ruled that out because no one was sure if it was a race or a language.”

“But… you didn’t rule out white and blonde?”

Tweek gripped his tray tightly. “I have an army of Mormons ready to support me not dyeing my hair. Jesus was white and blonde. Enough said.”

“Do you guys know where Jerusalem and Galilee are?”

“Were,” Clyde corrected. “I don’t think they’re places anymore.”

Craig opened and shut his mouth a few times before shaking his head in disbelief. “You guys are just… you’re so dumb. You know that, right? I need to know that you know you’re an idiot.”

Clyde saluted. “Very aware.”

“Blonde and white,” Tweek insisted before storming to the trashcans to scrape the remaining food off his plate. He could hear the continued debate on the race of Jesus Christ as he excited the cafeteria in search of Kenny.

 

 

*

 

Butters sucked at lighting. That was the first thing that struck Tweek. The entire ensemble was on stage, ready to sing their hearts out, and Butters changed the color of the lighting every thirty seconds or so in an attempt to make it look like a club. He hung backstage with Kenny, Clyde and Bebe, watching in horror as Butters weak attempts at lighting the Temple hid the stumbling dance moves by a collection of stoned cast members.

Two platforms had been set up with poles on each of them, and Red and Sally each occupied a pole. The other cast members drank from bottles of wine and danced on each other as the music got faster and faster. Sally managed to spin upside down before catching herself and doing a backwards roll onto her feet. From the other side of the stage, Red paused dancing to watch in clear admiration.

“ _Roll on up for the price is down. Come on in for the best in town. Take your pick of the finest wine. Lay your bets on this bird of mine. Roll on up for the price is down. Come on in for the best in town. Take your pick of the finest wine. Lay your bets on this bird of mine,_ ” the girls sang. Nichole’s strong voice overshadowed the others, but Sally’s dancing skill had most of the male underclassmen in minor awe before they could remember to come in with their parts. The only boy who seemed impervious to Sally and Red’s charm was Casey Miller, who danced with a bottle of wine like he had been born to push sinful goods in temples. Heidi simply looked nervous to be dressed in such skimpy clothing.

An underclassman boy grabbed Heidi from behind, and Tweek say her noticeably wince. Next to him, Clyde looked rather upset as the boy began to sing into her ear, “ _Name your price – I’ve got everything. Come on, buy; it’s going fast. Borrow cash on the finest terms. Hurry now; it’s going fast_.”

Tweek, Clyde, Kenny and Bebe entered the stage, looking around in horror as the chorus continued to repeat their lyrics. In the back of the theater, Tweek saw Craig slip in without making a noise and walk calmly down the aisle to sit near Wendy. He eyed the lighting critically and murmured something to Wendy. She pointed towards the side doors, and Craig disappeared out them.

Kenny caught one of the chorus members by the shoulders and forced them out of his way. He started pushing his way through the crowd as Bebe and Clyde stood back in horror, and Tweek began to ascend the stairs. By the time Tweek had reached the top of the stairs and the chorus was over, Butters’ weak attempts at switching between purple and blue lights had been replaced by flashes of purple and blue that illuminated the stage then disappeared into darkness.

There was a bright flash then the stage dimmed with nothing but a spotlight on Tweek. He would have paused to admire Butters’ newfound lighting skill, but he had to focus. “ _My temple should be a house of prayer,_ ” he roared. “ _You have made it a den of thieves! Get out! Get out!”_

The stage cleared out, and Tweek fell to his knees as the spotlight around him softened into a golden glow. “ _My time is almost through. Little left to do.”_ He dropped his head, but not before he glanced up to the lighting booth and saw Craig pouring over the dials and buttons like a concert pianist. “ _After all, I’ve tried for three years. Seems like thirty.”_ Tweek’s voice cracked as he repeated, “ _Seems like thirty.”_

The light dimmed for a second then a flash of red illuminated Tweek’s sharp cheekbones, and Heidi appeared in the corner of the stage. “ _See my eyes. I can hardly see_.”

Annie dragged herself to Tweek’s feet, and there was another flash of red light. _“See me stand. I can hardly-_ yo, these colors are so cool.”

Tweek snuck a glance at Wendy, who looked surprised and furious.

“ _I believe you can make me whole_ ,” Nichole belted as she grabbed Tweek’s shoulder.

Casey Miller approached Tweek hesitantly. “ _See my tongue; I can hardly talk!”_

Another flash of red and Jenny Simon appeared in the corner of the stage in hospital robes stained with blood. “ _See my skin; I’m a mass of_ \- wait, yeah, Annie, these lights are awesome.”

Bridon winced at the expression of anger at Wendy’s legs and slithered across the stage to Tweek. “ _See my legs; I can hardly stand”_

_“I believe you can make me well,”_ Sally begged.

Red was on her knees in front of Tweek in no time. _“See my purse. I’m a poor, poor man!”_

More and more underclassmen continued to crowd Tweek. Unfortunately, as more actors got added the fray, it leaved more opportunity for the girls of the ensemble to admire Craig’s lighting skills. They managed to get through the chorus before Wendy screamed for them to stop. _“_ _Will you touch, will you mend me Christ?_ _Won't you touch, will you heal me Christ? Will you kiss, you can cure me Christ. Won't you kiss, won't you pay me Christ?”_

“Are you all high?” Wendy demanded.

Red glanced around the other girls. “About half of us.”

Wendy stomped onto the stage. “Where the fuck is Kenny?”

Bebe and Clyde, in an expression of how much their friendship with Kenny really meant to them, pushed him forward. He stood in front of Wendy, trying his best to look sober. It helped that his tolerance was higher than the rest of the cast, but Wendy was smart. If her entire ensemble showed up to rehearsal stoned, she knew who the drugs had come from. “Yeah?”

“Stop. Giving. My. Actors. Drugs.” Wendy punctuated each word with a finger against Kenny’s chest. “Bebe, you are _dangerously_ close to losing your role to Nichole. Don’t make me replace you, too, Kenny.”

“Find another Judas,” Kenny shrugged. “You know I’m the best at this role.”

“Bridon,” Wendy called loudly. “Do you think you could learn the role of Judas in the remaining time?”

Bridon glanced at Kenny sympathetically. “Probably.”

Wendy smiled nastily at Kenny. “It looks like you just got an understudy. You’re excused from this rehearsal.”

She exited the stage, and Kenny followed after her quickly. “Wait, Wendy! Is there anything I can do? I’m fucking sorry!” He grabbed her by the arm, and Tweek watched in surprise as Wendy let herself get tugged in towards Kenny. “I’ll do anything to make it right.”

“You can leave this rehearsal, Kenny,” Wendy spat, yanking her arm back. “Besides that? Nothing. Nothing will make it okay that you’re turning my whole cast into drug addicts. Get the _fuck_ out of this rehearsal.”

A horrified look passed over Kenny’s face quickly, but he managed to collect himself enough to give Tweek a weak wave goodbye before disappearing down the aisle. Tweek stood on stage in confusion. Kenny _never_ put in effort with other human beings. It was part of being Kenny. Effort was an unnecessary evil.

Unless the effort was for Wendy apparently.

Wendy watched Kenny leave with an enraged look on her face before she turned back to the cast. One glance up at the lighting booth was enough to see a semi-victorious smile on Craig’s face, and Clyde looked similarly delighted to see the disappearance of Kenny. Only Tweek’s stomach sank down as the doors closed behind him. “Alright. Let’s start again at the swarm around Jesus, okay?”

She nodded to the band, and the cast members hurriedly pushed past each other to get to their previous positions. The band picked up, and the ensemble continued to crash over Tweek as he attempted to grab all their foreheads and bless them as they surged upon him again and again until he fell to his knees. The spotlight followed him down as he cried, “ _Oh, there’s too many of you. Don’t push me!”_ He attempted to crawl away, but the mob pulled him back. “ _Oh, there’s too little of me. Don’t crowd me! Please don’t crowd me!”_

The mob pulled him back one more time before Tweek scrambled forwards and screamed, “Heal yourselves!”

The cast disappeared, leaving only Bebe standing at the back of the stage and Tweek on his knees at the front. Bebe approached him gently, and Wendy called, “Cut!”

There was silence for a few seconds as Wendy eyed the cast disdainfully. “Better than I thought you would do. If I catch anyone high at rehearsal again, I will kick you out.”

“So… can I leave?” Red asked innocently, and Jenny and Bebe cracked up. Red flashed Bebe a glare.

Wendy tapped her foot angrily. “You’re all excused.” She glanced up at the lighting room, “Butters, Craig, get down here! We’re going over lighting!” She pointed at the door. “All actors out.”

The cast shuffled out, shame-faced and stoned, as Butters and Craig disappeared from the lighting booth. Tweek paused to make eye contact with Craig as he exited the theater, and Craig just raised an eyebrow speculatively. Tweek mouthed thanks, and Craig gave him a brief nod.

He exited just in time to hear Wendy declare, “Butters, Craig is so much better at this job than you, it’s not even funny. What do we have to do to get you on board with this musical, Craig?”

“I’ll do lighting.” Tweek froze at his nasally reply, but Bebe nudged his shoulder and proceeded to exit the auditorium. Tweek followed after quickly.


	10. Everything's Alright (Reprise)

“I was barely stoned, Token. I took, like, one hit before passing it.”

“That barely matters! Kenny is tearing the cast apart, and you’re buying into it!”

“Nichole sat down next to Token on his bed and patted his knee sympathetically. “Are you just mad that Tweek’s been hanging out with Kenny instead of you guys?”

Token frowned defensively. “Tweek can be friends with whomever he wants. As long as they aren’t alienating bad influences.”

“So Tweek can be friends with anyone except Kenny?”

“Well, and Bebe.”

“They’re kind of a package deal anyway.”

Token glanced up with slight interest. “Are the two of them dating?”

“I don’t think Kenny really dates per se. He more, ah, makes the whole world fall in love with him?” Nichole looked uncomfortable as she said it. “He’s magnetic. I don’t really know what else to say. Haven’t two of your friends been in love with him by this point?”

Token shook his head. “Craig doesn’t let us talk about Kenny anymore.”

“And Tweek?”

“I don’t think there’s ever been a worse match for Tweek than Kenny.” Token sighed and leaned his forehead on Nichole’s shoulder. “All my friends hate each other.”

Nichole scratched his hair absent-mindedly. “Same.”

“Craig is mad at Tweek for hanging out with Kenny too much. He’s mad at all of us for spending too much time on this musical. Clyde is trying to break up Kenny and Tweek’s friendship, _and_ he’s going on a diet so I’m going to lose Clyde’s little poo belly. Tweek is mad at me for not liking weed. Why does everything suck now?”

Nichole shrugged sympathetically. “At least we can hang out with each other?”

“Thank God,” Token whispered into her shoulder as he pulled her into a hug. “We auditioned for this to do something fun together for our senior year. Instead it’s just kind of ruining our last year together.”

“I mean… my friends have always sucked. I’m sure Red and Jenny would have found a way to piss everyone off with or without the musical.”

“You have fourteen years of evidence to support that assertion,” Token grinned.

Nichole paused scratching Token’s hair to frown. “Is Clyde really getting rid of his poo belly?”

“He drinks diet soda now.”

“It was so cute! He was like a little teddy bear in a letterman jacket!” Nichole looked crestfallen, and Token nodded in sad agreement. “This is a loss to chubby boys everywhere. By the way, I am genuinely very sorry about what happened when I was smoking with Kenny and the girls.”

“It’s okay, Nichole. I get that you miss your friends.”

Nichole smiled. “Nothing brings people together like illicit substances.”

Token frowned at the ground. “Do you think Kenny’s going to ditch Tweek?”

“What makes you ask that?”

Token rubbed his mouth with the back of his fist. “Well. He has a history of, ah, getting my friends addicted to things then kind of bouncing. Craig didn’t kick his cigarette addiction for about a year after their friendship, and Tweek’s already in a lot deeper than Craig is.”

“Craig and Kenny were like official though, weren’t they?” Nichole asked, scanning her brain for any information she had on the two of them. Token had been dating Wendy at the time, and Nichole had only heard snippets afterwards every time Craig got into fights with Kenny.

“As official as Kenny gets, yeah.”

Nichole paused to think this over. “I mean… it’s been a few years. Kenny might’ve matured. There’s also the possibility that Tweek and Kenny are actually just best friends.”

Token shook his head. “Tweek confessed. He likes Kenny.”

Nichole’s mouth formed a perfect “o”. “Kenny’s very in love with Wendy.”

Token cackled for a second before he got his laughter under control. “Sorry, sorry. He just has _no_ shot with her. She thought _I_ didn’t take my future seriously enough.”

“I thought you were the one to break up with her.”

“Yeah, dude. I was a freshman, and she tried to talk about college and careers with me. Of course I bailed.” Nichole shot Token a look, and he smiled ingratiatingly. “Also I am _very_ in love with you.”

“Better.”

“But… he does have zero chance with her. I kind of wish someone would warn him, but I feel like he’d just settle for Bebe or Tweek if someone did.”

Nichole smirked. “Kenny doesn’t get dissuaded. Everyone else comes too easily. He’s been working on breaking down Wendy for about two years now.”

“How’s that going?”

“His chance was better two years ago.”

“I assumed so.”

Token ran his hand up and down Nichole’s arm as they sat on the bed and stared at the wall in deep thought. How had everything come to this? How did _absolutely_ everything suck? She had seen her friend group dissipate in front of her, and Token’s friends were in a state of constant tension.

It couldn’t have just been the musical. This was just a way to unearth the problems that had been lingering behind the scenes the whole time. Red was always going to alienate her friends, and Nichole wanted nothing to do with the dispute between her and Bebe. She didn’t even know what it was about. One night, they were making out like drunken best friends would, and the next day, they stopped speaking.

In retrospect, that making out might have been where everything fell apart.

Token stretched and yawned. “I have to work on my personal statement. Wendy’s been riding us so hard I’ve barely had time to care about my future. Want to do homework?”

“Not even a little bit!” Nichole cried good-naturedly as she pulled her backpack off the floor and started rooting around in it for a textbook. Token was going to get into whatever school he wanted. He was a wealthy minority with a 3.9 GPA. Nichole, on the other hand, couldn’t make herself care any more than her parents had forced on her.

They seemed so sure that Nichole should be putting more effort into her future, and they’d spent so much money on SAT prep books that she felt horribly guilty not trying harder. She just couldn’t really make herself care. Token cared. Wendy cared. No one else at South Park High really cared. In truth, everyone would end up at community college, CSU, or finishing their education with a high school diploma.

The future of a South Park child was not bright, but at least Token’s was.

 

*

 

Nichole’s heart sank as she stared at the email Wendy had sent out to the cast of _Jesus Christ Superstar_. In clear writing, she had detailed that the day’s rehearsal of “The Temple” and “Everything’s Alright (Reprise)” would feature Nichole as the role of Mary Magdalene and Bridon as Judas Iscariot.

She glanced around the hall to see who had checked their phones and watched in quiet horror as Bebe approached Kenny and tapped his shoulder to grab his attention. She showed him the phone, and they both exchanged knowing glances of irritation. Bebe’s gaze snapped up to focus on Nichole, and she muttered something to Kenny before making her way to Nichole.

“I didn’t do this,” Nichole said automatically as Bebe approached.

Bebe scowled at her. “Really? Because from my perspective, it seems like you stole my role.”

“It’s up to Wendy, Bebe.”

Bebe pushed Nichole against the locker. “Give me Mary Magdalene back or there will be hell to pay.”

Nichole’s eyes widened before arms were on Bebe’s shoulders pulling her back. Kenny gripped her tightly and nuzzled her hair comfortingly. “Bebe, don’t worry about it. Wendy’s just trying to show us that we can’t call her bluff. We can still call her bluff.”

Nichole frowned. “What makes you think I’m a bluff? Wendy _likes_ me as Mary.”

“She likes me as Judas. What good did that do me?” Kenny asked in a dull voice.

“I think you guys should talk to Wendy if you’re so worried about this. I promise that I didn’t do _anything_ to steal this role from you, Bebe.” Nichole looked at Bebe imploringly, and Bebe nodded in silent belief.

Kenny scoffed. “Do you think we wouldn’t talk to Wendy if Wendy would talk to us?” He glanced at Bebe hopelessly. “I think we’re out. I’m going to smoke out back if you want to join later.”

Bebe nodded. “I have to talk to Nichole a little bit, but I’ll be out soon.”

Kenny gave Nichole a nod and headed off down the hallway. Nichole braced herself for another attack from Bebe, but it didn’t come. Instead, Bebe wrapped her in a hug and buried her face in her shoulder. “Everything sucks now.”

Nichole nervously stroked Bebe’s hair. “I know, babe. I know.”

“I don’t even care if you’re Mary. I just want our friends back.” Bebe glanced up at Nichole, and Nichole spotted tears springing up in her eyes. “Red and Wendy have both cut me off. I didn’t want this! I would have happily had an ensemble role if it would keep my best friends from hating me!”

“Red hates everyone.”

Bebe let out a broken sob, and Nichole pulled her into a tighter hug. “Red didn’t hate me.”

“The musical will be over soon. Everything will go back to normal.”

“No, it won’t!” Bebe sobbed, wiping some of her snot on Nichole’s shoulder much to Nichole’s disgust. “It’s our senior year, and I’ve lost them forever!”

Nichole tried to edge her shoulder out of Bebe’s nose’s reach. “What makes you say that?”

Bebe wiped her nose and sniffed. “I think I fucked everything up when I started hooking up with Kenny. I just… didn’t expect any of them to care.”

Nichole froze. “Is that when your problems with Red started?”

“It was that fucking party! We were fine beforehand, and now she hates me!”

“Did you…” Nichole trailed off, unsure of whether it was her duty as a friend to keep this secret. “Did you consider that they might be jealous?”

Bebe threw her hands up in the air. “Can everyone stop being in love with Kenny? He’s not that great! He mainly just smokes weed and saves the world sometimes!”

“I think it’s the saving the world part that gets everyone. I actually meant that have you considered that Red might be jealous _of_ Kenny?” She and Bebe made eye contact, and a flash of realization appeared in Bebe’s eyes.

“I tried to talk to her about that. I do not think that’s the issue.”

Nichole snorted. “Right. Red is _so_ open with her feelings. She would _totally_ tell the truth if confronted with embarrassing facts about her emotions.”

Bebe wiped her nose again. “She… did tell me she’s gay.”

“No way! I heard she was trying to fuck DogPoo.”

Bebe shivered. “His name makes me really dry.”

“Like the desert,” Nichole agreed. “I don’t think you should give up on Red, Bebe. She’s stubborn, and she’s a bitch, but she is a surprisingly good friend. I think you’d be good for her. Anyone who gets her away from Jenny will be good for her.”

“I don’t even have a confirmation that she feels the same way.”

Nichole raised an eyebrow. “You feel this way?”

“I’ll shank you if you tell anyone.”

Nichole mimed zipping her lips. “In that case, I really think you should try again. Red’s worth fighting for if you care that much.”

Bebe sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “There is the small issue of Kenny.”

“I’m gonna be honest right now. It’s not going to be nice. I don’t think Kenny will really _care_ if you guys stop hooking up. I’ve never seen that boy go into mourning for anything other than spilled weed.”

Bebe nodded sadly. “There’s so much use crying over spilled weed. I meant more, um, Kenny gives me a lot of drugs. I kind of like that and don’t really want to lose that connection.”

“That’s prostitution.”

“Not officially.”

Nichole pulled Bebe into another hug, and she jolted back in shock as Bebe tightened the hug so much Nichole could barely breathe. “Do you… do you think you’re addicted, Bebe? You can be honest with me.”

Bebe rolled her eyes. “I get addicted to _everything_.”

“I know,” Nichole agreed sadly. “If that’s the only reason you’re keeping up this thing with Kenny that’s hurting your two best friends, you need to stop.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bebe asked in a soft voice. “What if I can’t?”

Nichole hugged her again. “I know you can, babe. The only question is when _you_ want to go sober. We’ll all be there to help you along the way.”

Bebe stared at Nichole for a second before doubling over in a fit of sobs. “I just want Wendy’s help! Wendy always knows what to do!”

“Don’t cry! Bebe! Don’t do that!” Nichole cried desperately as she fished around in her pocket for a package of tissues. She handed one to Bebe, and she blew her nose unattractively. “If you ask Wendy for her help, she will give it. She loves you, Bebe. You two have been best friends all your life. A stupid musical isn’t going to change that.”

“A stupid musical ruined _many_ lifelong friendships!”

Nichole nodded sadly. “Don’t let it be yours, though.”

 

*

 

Nichole _hated_ rehearsing with the other apostles. She really hated it. It was isolating, and she missed her friends. She didn’t think things could get any worse than those rehearsals. She had been very, very wrong.

The audience was fuller than usual. Bebe and Kenny sat next to each other in the back with equally expressionless faces. Red was next to Wendy, watching Nichole eagerly to see her show up Bebe, and Token had arrived with Craig and Clyde to watch the rehearsal.

Tweek cast Nichole a supportive smile and rubbed her shoulder gently as he crossed the stage to take his spot kneeling on the ground from the end of “The Temple”. Wendy nodded for Nichole to take her spot, and Nichole bashfully walked to the back of the stage.

She listened for the last few notes of the previous song to give her a cue then she rushed to Tweek’s side, delicately pulling him up to his feet and rubbing a hand comfortingly down his chest. “ _Try not to get worried. Try not to turn on to problems that upset you, oh._ ” Her voice rang out cleanly through the whole theater, and she saw Bebe stiffen in the back row as a look of jealousy and horror flickered over her face.

Nichole grabbed Tweek’s hand and led him to the middle of the stage. She massaged his shoulders gently as she sang into his ear, “ _Don’t you know everything’s alright, yes, everything’s fine._ ”

Tweek turned to face Nichole and took her by the hand. It was astounding that his best friend’s girlfriend could have so much more chemistry with him than Bebe Stevens, famously the hottest girl in South Park, but Wendy looked delighted as electricity tingled between the two of them, and Tweek pulled her into his chest. “ _And I think I shall sleep well tonight,_ ” he finished for her. “ _Let the world turn without me tonight.”_

He dropped Nichole’s hand and stepped back towards the side of the stage. Nichole smiled at him sadly as she sang her final lines, “ _Close your eyes, close your eyes, and forget all about us tonight.”_

She extended a hand in the direction Tweek had disappeared then let it drop to its side as the first few bars of “I Don’t Know How To Love Him” filled the theater. Nichole glanced at Wendy to gauge her reaction, and Wendy was watching with a delighted expression on her face. Token burst out into applause, and Clyde and Craig reluctantly followed his lead.

“That was really lovely, Nichole,” Wendy said sweetly. “You make a wonderful Mary.” She glanced around the theater. “Would you and Bebe mind hanging behind today so I could talk to the two of you about the role?”

One glance at Bebe’s paled face was enough to tell Nichole that they both knew what Wendy was going to say. Wendy didn’t look back at Bebe for an instant. She simply called for another rehearsal, and Tweek jumped back onto the stage to take his position again.

They practiced the reprise a few times before Wendy was confident that Nichole was prepared to play the role of Mary. Nichole couldn’t deny that it felt… really good. Tweek was her best friend in the musical (besides Token, but she really didn’t have any songs with him), and their chemistry was a million times better than his and Bebe’s.

She would not steal a role from her best friend.

As the theater cleared out, Bebe slouched her way to Wendy, and Nichole jumped off the stage to meet at the director’s chair. Wendy frowned at Bebe as she approached. “I’d say Nichole did a great job. Would you agree?”

“It’s a very short song,” Bebe mumbled.

Wendy pursed her lips. “Then I guess we’ll see how well Nichole can do tomorrow when she rehearses “I Don’t Know How To Love Him”.”

Bebe’s mouth parted, and Nichole felt an anxious fluttering in her stomach. “You’re seriously giving away my role, aren’t you?”

Wendy smiled nastily. “You’re free to take over as an apostle. Just be sober for rehearsals.”

“I don’t want to be Mary,” Nichole said in a soft voice.

Bebe and Wendy’s heads both snapped in her direction. “ _What_?” They asked in perfect unison.

“I don’t want the role of Mary. I like being an apostle.”

Bebe looked confused. “You hate being an apostle.”

Nichole stared at Bebe very seriously. “I do not want the role of Mary Magdalene. I would like Bebe to take the rehearsal tomorrow, Wendy. If you’re still unhappy with her performance, I can practice the song.”

Bebe was watching Nichole with something akin to awe in her eyes. She mouthed a quick _thanks,_ and Nichole’s lip twisted up in a half smile. Wendy groaned. “Alright, Bebe. You can do the fucking song. Show up on time, know all your lyrics and blocking, and be sober. Got it?”

She nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah… I’ll do that.” She was still staring at Nichole, and Nichole couldn’t hide her smile.

“Let me know if you change your mind, Nichole,” Wendy muttered as she packed up her notes and script. “You’ve been doing an excellent job.”

Nichole smiled at her sweetly. “Thank you, but I was cast as a disciple. That’s where I want to be. Bebe’s doing an excellent job, too.”

Wendy scoffed as she finished collecting her things and shoved them in her bag. “I urge you to reconsider,” she said before disappearing down the aisle, leaving Bebe alone with Nichole.

Bebe was watching Nichole like she didn’t know girls like her existed in real life. “Nichole, you’re better at this role than I am. I don’t need pity.”

“You remember when Kenny gave you a Xanax because you doubt yourself too much?” Nichole prompted, and Bebe nodded in confusion. “You doubt yourself too much. You don’t need drugs to cure that. You need someone’s pure faith in you, Bebe. You’re Mary. I’m a disciple. I’m not going to change that.”

“The musical would be better if-.”

“The musical is perfect with you.” Nichole squeezed Bebe’s arm supportively. “I’ll be there tomorrow to see you bring the house down, okay? Follow Wendy’s instructions, and I know you’ll do a great job.”

Bebe nodded weakly before pulling Nichole into a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

Nichole laughed lightly into her shoulder. “You’re welcome. This was always your role, Bebe. I was just keeping it warm for you til you came to your senses.” She pulled back and looked at Bebe seriously. “Think about what I said. I have faith in you, Bebe. Your relationships with Wendy and Red are way too important to end over such petty issues.”

“And if I don’t have faith in me?”

Nichole grinned and gave her a nudge. “Everything’s alright. I promise.”


	11. I Don't Know How To Love Him

There was no good way out of this. No one wanted to be that asshole who responds, “Oh, cool, I wanted to stop hooking up too.” Who believes that asshole? They’re clearly just trying to save face. Unfortunately, Kenny had just beat her to the punch, and now she had to wreak of desperation as she attempted to show how apathetic she really was.

Lucky for Bebe, Kenny didn’t care about most things as he gave her a friendly slug in the shoulder. “I knew you’d understand. You’re the best, Bebz.”

Bebe nodded weakly. “I feel you.”

Kenny grinned at her. “I’ll see you at your rehearsal tomorrow, though, right? I always knew you’d be a perfect Mary.”

She nodded again. “So, um, Kenny. Do you, ah, sell?”

Kenny paused and looked slightly affronted. “No, I don’t.”

“Who do you buy from?”

“As of right now, no one, and I think if your first reaction after we kinda somewhat break up is whether or not I’ll still give you drugs, you should consider doing the same. You’re my bud, Bebe. Obviously if I had bud I’d give it to you for free.” Kenny preened for a second, shooting her a hurt look. “Girls use me for my _looks_ , not my drugs, okay?

“Was that insensitive?”

“Very.”

“But why are you buying from no one? I feel like you’re fucking with me.”

Kenny stuck his hands in the pocket of his bright pink hoodie. Bebe’s nose wrinkled unconsciously as she took it in. At least she’d had material to make fun of him for after this. “I’m not doing drugs anymore,” he admitted bashfully.

“No fucking way. Since when?”

“Couple of days ago,” he mumbled.

Bebe looked at him curiously. “Are you taking a t-break?”

He shook his head sadly. “Nope. I’m going sober.”

Bebe stared at him, and he met her eyes with an expressionless gaze. Bebe tilted her chin a bit as she analyzed him. “You’re upset that Wendy got mad at you,” she concluded finally.

Judging from the way Kenny thrust his hands deeper in his pockets and grimaced, Bebe had guessed right. “My motives don’t really matter.”

“It won’t impress her, you know? It won’t be enough.”

Kenny frowned at Bebe then his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Let me act like this will work, okay?”

Bebe nodded understandingly. “It’s good to go sober anyway.”

Kenny straightened up and smirked. “Yeah, but you realize this means you need to go sober, too?”

 

*

 

Bebe awoke that night in cold sweats. It was way too early for her to be having withdrawal, wasn’t it? She dunked her head in her fish tank and rolled out of the bed. This wasn’t that bad.

She grabbed a hat from the chair near her table and started idly twirling it around her hand as she stared around the room. She sank into her chair, her foot unwitting circling in the same pattern. Maybe Tweek would still have access to drugs? Was that worth a shot?

She frowned at the 4 am on her clock. It was doubtful anyone would be awake, although she didn’t think Tweek slept all that much. She sent him a hopeless text and sank down in her chair, resigned to feel like shit as she continued to twirl her hat.

A reply came quickly. Bebe picked up her phone and clicked call before even reading the message.

“Bebe?” His tired voice answered.

“Tweek! My main man!” Bebe tried to sound excited. “I knew you’d be awake, too.”

“I’m always awake,” he answered grimly.

He did not sound excited to be hearing from her, but Bebe didn’t let it deter her. “Look, do you hand anything to help me sleep?”

“If I had something to help with sleep, would I not have taken it?” His voice was so dull that Bebe would have giggled if she weren’t so frustrated. “Kenny going sober fucked us up.”

“God, this is for real?”

There was a pause as Tweek yawned and some clattering. “Yeah. It’s for real. Enjoy the insomnia.

 

*

Sally approached Bebe that morning with none of the energy Bebe wanted to be seeing. Tweek hadn’t been kidding. She’d spent half the night tossing and turning before deciding that watching TV was a much better use of her time. At one point, she had even mimed smoking a bong to see if she could get placebo high, and it had failed.

She was officially pathetic.

“Ready for today, Bebe?” Sally asked with genuine excitement.

Bebe frowned at her. “What’s today?”

Sally raised an eyebrow. “Your song. Your song is today.”

Bebe winced. Her head was pounding. It would probably hurt just to hear the orchestra. She couldn’t prove to Wendy that she’d be a suitable Mary like this even if Wendy _did_ want her to be sober. “Of course. Yeah, I’m super excited.”

Sally squeezed her shoulder before running off to class. “Great. See you then!”

Bebe almost groaned as she turned around and bumped into Tweek. Craig immediately grabbed her by the shoulders and thrust her back like he needed a six foot large number something body guard.

“You look like shit,” Craig remarked casually.

“I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Neither did Tweek, and he looks fine.”

Bebe eyed the bags under Tweek’s eyes, but she didn’t say anything. “Tweek, how do you do your rehearsals on no sleep?”

“Did you miss the time I passed out during “Gethsemane”?” Tweek asked in a dead voice. “I don’t. Some nights are better than others.”

“But Wendy trusts you to be good! This is my last chance at Mary!”

Craig scowled. “This really matters so little.”

Tweek rummaged around in his bag and pulled out a large bottle of Advil. “Best of luck to you.”

 

*

 

_Last chance, last chance, last chance, last chance, last chance_. It was the only thought running through Bebe’s mind as she stood in the center of the stage with Craig’s gentle lighting illuminating her golden curls. Rehearsals didn’t usually have this big an audience. Sally, Butters and Red were sitting on opposite sides of Wendy, clearly waiting for Bebe to fuck up, and Nichole, Token, Kenny, and Tweek had shown up in the back. For a second Bebe hated Nichole for providing a fallback even during Bebe’s last chance, then she saw the girl flash her a supportive smile and realized that Nichole had _genuinely_ come her to support Bebe. Kenny and Tweek had too. Token looked a little annoyed that it wasn’t his girlfriend on stage.

Stan and Milly’s guitar started striking up a calming tune, and Bebe felt her body break out in cold sweats. It was happening. She had sung this song a million times before. She had always failed to rise with the music or moved her body too awkwardly.

Not this time. This time Bebe Stevens was going to crush her musical solo. Nichole had given her this role. Ignoring the voice in her head constantly reminding her that Nichole was a better choice for this role, she was suddenly opening her mouth and voice was coming out much to Bebe’s surprise.

_“I don’t know how to love him.”_ Bebe’s eyes widened as she realized that noise was coming from her. “ _What do to, how to move him.”_  She glanced at Nichole and received a large smile in reply. Next to her, Tweek and Kenny were smiling eagerly. “ _I’ve been changed. Yes, really changed_.”

“ _In these past few days, when I’ve seen myself, I seem like someone else.”_ Bebe dared a glance at Wendy and Sally, who were showing pessimistic interest. Her gaze drifted left to Red. Her eyes were narrowed, but she looked more relaxed in her chair. “ _I don’t know how to take this. I don’t see why he moves me. He’s a man. He’s just a man! And I’ve had so many men before in very many ways. He’s just one more_.”

Bebe’s hands forced themselves into fists, and and forced her voice to strengthen. “ _Should I bring him down? Should I scream and shout? Should I speak of love, let my feelings out?”_ She paused before locking eyes with Kenny, who smirked knowingly, and belted out, _“I never thought I’d come to this.”_ Bebe paused for breath. “ _What’s it all about?”_

She brought her eyes back to Wendy, who showed a renewed excitement in Bebe’s performance. “ _Don’t you think it’s rather funny I should be in this position? I’m the one who’s always been so calm, so cool, no lover’s fool, running every show.”_ She exhaled deeply, “ _He scares me so._ ”

Bebe walked nervously into the center of the stage as the orchestra rose, dropping her tattered coat on the ground so reveal a long white gown and the outline for a fake cross tattoo that Wendy had seen in some movie. She breathed in and out one last time, feeling all eyes in the theater focusing on her, as she burst out, “ _I never thought I’d come to this! What’s it all about?”_ It seemed like the theater left out a collective sigh of relief as Bebe forced her voice to stretch far enough. Nichole and Kenny looked downright triumphant.

“ _Yet, if he said he loved me, I’d be lost. I’d be frightened. I couldn’t cope, just couldn’t cope.”_ She snuck a glance at Red, who looked begrudgingly respectful of Bebe’s solo, and smiled nervously. “ _I’d turn my head. I’d back away. I wouldn’t want to know_.” He eyes returned to Wendy. “ _He scares me so_.” She scanned the theater with glassy eyes. “ _I want him so_.”

Bebe ended staring into empty space with tears threatening to pour out of her eyes. “ _I love him so.”_

There was a deafening silence, then Kenny whooped loudly and Tweek and Nichole burst into applause. Token followed Nichole’s lead, although he clearly thought Nichole could do a better job. Red was just sitting in her chair, frozen, and Wendy was looking thoughtfully between Nichole and Bebe.

Kenny pushed himself up from the chair and started edging out. Tweek followed quickly. “I knew you’d kill it, babe.”

Bebe gave him a strange look.

“What? You think I’m going to stay for more than one rehearsal?”

Wendy snorted into her drink then looked angry at herself.

Tweek nodded. “This is… not that good a song.”

Gary stretched his neck up to be seen. “This is like the most famous song in the show.”

“Nah, he’s right,” Kenny agreed nonchalantly. “Sometimes this musical sounds like The Wall. _That’s_ good shit. Like when Jesus faces all the bad guys.”

“ _Jesus faces all the bad guys,”_ Wendy repeated in a disbelieving voice.

Kenny grinned at her. “You know exactly what I mean. _Crucify him! Crucify him! Crucify Crucify Crucify!_ ” He sang in a high voice, warranting a giggle. “I don’t need an inquisition. We’re just not staying for the whole rehearsal. Nichole, Token, you guys coming?”

Nichole glanced at Bebe sadly. “It _is_ only fun the first time.”

Bebe shook her head and waved her off. “I don’t need an audience.”

“Leave my Advil in my locker tomorrow,” Tweek called over his shoulder as the four of them exited the theater. Bebe glanced expectantly at Red.

Red cocked her head to one side. “I think I’ll stay and wait for you to fuck up.”

 


	12. Damned for All Time / Blood Money

Going sober was the pits. Being the guy who handed out drugs automatically made you feel like a rockstar without any need for talent. It definitely made people want to sleep with you. Kenny repeated the mantra that Karen had told him to tell himself whenever he was sure he just needed half a joint to fall asleep. He could be a rockstar with the talent. He was talented, charismatic, and funny, and those attributes did not need drugs to amplify them.

Kenny banged on Karen’s door to wake her up. “Karen, your mantra stuff is bullshit!”

There was a crash and some footsteps, and Karen opened the door, blinking sleep out of her eyes. “Kenny, it’s early am.”

“I’m just letting you know. This mantra is bullshit.”

“ _You are talented, charismatic-.”_ She recited sleepily

“It’s not going to help if someone else does it, either.”

Karen grinned at him. “No one else? Really? Really, Kenny?” He glared at her, and she added another “Really?” just to emphasize what a douche he had for a little sister.

“Drop it.”

“Why don’t you drop the mantra and just admit you’re doing it for Wendy?” She asked shrewdly. Karen and Kyle were the only people to which Kenny would bemoan his years-long crush on Wendy Testaburger. He kept the pool select because anyone else would probably laugh at the idea of Kenny and Wendy. “It’ll work better than a mantra.”

Kenny frowned at her. “You don’t know shit about that stuff, Karen.”

Karen blushed, and Kenny’s eyebrow quirked instinctively. _That_ was not a good sign. Someone was about to get their ass kicked. “I just think if you were honest about your motives, it would make it a lot easier for you to keep this up.”

“Hey. Kare. What’s that red stuff on your face?”

“What?”

“It’s red. It’s all over your face.”

Karen brushed at her face and looked at Kenny curiously. “Did I get it?”

Kenny pulled her head underneath his arm, threatening to give a noogie at any time. “No, you fucker. You were blushing. You’re not allowed to blush at anything other than inappropriate jokes.”

Karen pushed him back. “Usually I’m the one _making_ the inappropriate joke. You are, by the way, the embodiment of the double standard.”

“Karen, we’re so broke. Let me have white, male privilege for a second.”

“Fuck you!” Karen punched him in his stomach lightly. “That’s not a request you just make.”

Kenny smiled at her ingratiatingly. He would have to try another tactic. This had clearly just pissed her off. “So why ya blushing, Kare?”

Karen wrinkled her nose. “You’re _weird_ when you want information. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Kyle. Numerous times.” Karen blushed again, and Kenny’s eyes widened. “No fucking way, Karen.” Her mouth parted in surprise, and he held his hands up in surrender and stepped back. “I was wrong. I don’t want to hear about this. You keep being fifteen, and I’ll go back to my room.”

“Kenny! I’m not being creepy, I promise!” Karen whined as Kenny slowly edged back down the hall.

Kenny shook his head quickly. “Nope. Don’t want to hear about this. Don’t want to see it. Shut it down.”

“Shut it down?”

“Shut it down.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Kenny was halfway down the hall by now. “It means I’m not dealing with your fifteen-year-old feelings for my eighteen-year-old best friend. Shut it down.”

“You don’t have to deal with anything?”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Karen. Now I can _never_ be relaxed when it’s the three of us. You can’t act on this and have Kyle reject you. Everything will get weird.”

Karen paused and thought this over for a second. “That’s why you’re worried? You think Kyle will reject me?”

“You’re fifteen, Karen! He has, at the very least, _watched_ me change your diapers.” Plus, Kyle was the most asexual kid Kenny had ever met. He just didn’t develop feelings for people. Kenny, Cartman and Stan still had bets on which way his sexuality was going to turn out. Kenny _was_ just betting on asexual.

Plus, Kenny had a secret theory that Stan just bet that Kyle was straight so no one would associate him with a gay best friend and spread rumors that, Kenny was guessing, were probably accurate.

Karen bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Okay. I get it.”

Kenny strode back down the hall to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t want to have to beat my best friend up, anyway,” he added in a soothing voice, and Karen glared at him before ducking back into her room. Kenny knocked on the door a few times. “Karen! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad!”

“Fuck off!” came her muffled reply.

“But… I don’t feel like I did that much that should upset you.”

“That’s because you’re dumb, and everyone likes you anyway!”

Kenny glared at the door like it could communicate some message to her. “Whatever, Karen! Act like a middle schooler! You’re only proving my point.”

“ _Fuck off, Kenny!”_

Kenny obediently disappeared down the hall. He and Karen didn’t have fights often, but they usually didn’t have to deal with the messy business of making up. They’d continue to love each other until the angry person, in this case Karen, decides to end the fight.

He was going to have to watch out for this Kyle development though. It had no possible positive outcomes. Either Kyle rejected her, and everything would get weird, or Kyle _didn’t_ reject her, and Kenny would have to kill Kyle.

He debated warning Kyle, but that seemed like a betrayal of Karen’s trust and a surefire way to make things weird. He didn’t want Kyle to be aware of anything she did in his presence, and he didn’t really like the idea of Kyle _considering_ it. He knew what considering relationships was. He did it about twice a day.

Kyle would not find out, and Karen would get over it. Kenny would see to that.

 

*

 

“You have been off the grid, band geek,” Kenny greeted airily as he approached Stan in the hallway. “What do they have that I don’t?”

“Not being annoying fucks?” Stan responded, slamming his locker. “What’s up, Kenny?”

“I have to talk to you about something.” He linked his arm with Stan’s, and Stan frowned down at it. “But, of course, first, how are _you_? You’ve ghosted us, man.”

“I’m good. You guys are still my best friends. You’re just being jealous bitches. Plus, I like the band kids.”

Kenny winked at Stan, and Stan, like Karen the night before, turned red. Kenny had such a good read on people’s feelings for other people he couldn’t believe it sometimes. It was like a sixth sense. “Enjoy them.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “We can direct this back to what you want, Kenny. I have rehearsal next period.”

“Wendy got you _class time_?” Kenny asked in surprise. She could do anything.

“No, dude, I’m in band. Like the elective.”

“Since when?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

Kenny’s eyes widened. “So you have become a band geek!”

“It would appear so.”

“You did band instead of auditioning to be cooler than us!”

“I had other reasons, too.”

Kenny grinned triumphantly. “Well, then I’ll keep this brief because it might lower my street cred to be seen with you.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“I need to know how you got Wendy to like you,” Kenny blurted out before he even realized he was actually asking this. He had planned it so much last night, but it came out all jumbled in execution. Stan paused to stare at Kenny.

“What?”

“How did you get Wendy to like you?”

Stan’s lips turned down, and Kenny’s heartbeat increased substantially until he just realized Stan was deep in thought. “I vomited on her a lot?”

“I don’t think she likes that anymore.”

“Dude, we were like eight. I can’t remember dating Wendy. I wrote her a song a few times. She liked it when I pretended to get passionate about stuff she cared about. Bebe told me the most romantic gesture she could think of was to go outside her window and play Peter Gabriel.” Stan frowned. “I didn’t feel that cool doing that. I’m not sure if I’d recommend it, but try “Shock the Monkey” if you want.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed. Wendy had the weirdest taste in everything it seemed. “These were things she liked?”

“I did say that being eight is not necessarily applicable to being eighteen. You can ask Cartman so you know what _not_ to do. He’s been trying to get in her pants for years.” Stan looked surprisingly casual, and Kenny didn’t understand why he didn’t talk to Stan more often. He was a really smart, rational kid. Kenny used went to Kyle, and they usually got themselves overly excited about some irrelevant cause. He even gave Kenny the dignity of not asking why he wanted to know. “In general, I just remember playing her songs. I even helped Kyle write a song for that Rebecca slut once.”

“Band geek from an early age.”

Stan grinned. “People consider it romantic.”

 

*

 

Talking to Wendy before the rehearsal had been a bust. Stan was already on stage with his guitar when Kenny entered, and Wendy motioned for Kenny to quickly get on the stage. He couldn’t count how many times they repeated the intro before Token and DogPoo showed up, and Wendy called for a full run through. Then another. Then another.

Kenny and Stan eyed each other painfully as they crossed sides. Kenny cast a guilty glance to the ground, and Stan disappeared back down into the orchestra. Light flute music replaced Stan’s guitar, and Token and DogPoo strode out confidently on the other side of the stage.

Kenny glanced at Wendy in annoyance. She had told him to harness his inner desperation after the first three tries. That was a thinly veiled insult if he’d ever heard one, but god damn did it work. The guitar got faster, and Kenny rushed up to Token and DogPoo, grasping them both by their shoulders. _“_ _Now if I help you, it matters that you see these sordid kind of things are coming hard to me. It's taken me some time to work out what to do. I weighed the whole thing out before I came to you.”_ Token sniffed and looked away, and Kenny made his voice crack in desperation. “ _I have no thought at all about my own reward. I really didn't come here of my own accord. Just don't say I'm damned for all time.”_ He practically screamed the last four words as he pushed Token and DogPoo away from him.

Kenny was advancing on Token immediately. “ _I came because I had to; I'm the one who saw - Jesus can't control it like he did before, and furthermore I know that Jesus thinks so too._ _Jesus wouldn't mind that I was here with you.”_ He gripped at Token’s cloak desperately. “ _I have no thought at all about my own reward._ _I really didn't come here of my own accord._ _Just don't say I'm damned for all time._ ”

He stumbled away from them as David began his sax solo, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Something about that desperation remark had really gotten to him, and it was helping with what Wendy stupidly called “inappropriately timed melodiousness”.

Kenny shook himself out of his thoughts to rush up and grab DogPoo’s shoulder. “ _Annas, you're a friend, a worldly man and wise.”_ He turned around to smile at Token. “ _Caiaphas, my friend, I know you sympathize.”_

Token turned away and smiled snornfully as Kenny let go of DogPoo’s shoulder and rushed to the center of the stage. “ _Why are we the prophets? Why are we the ones who see the sad solution - know what must be done? I have no thought at all about my own reward. I really didn't come here of my own accord.”_ Kenny dropped to his knees, his voice rattling in a way that made even Wendy’s hair stand on end as he wailed, “ _Just don’t say I’m damned for all time!”_

It was around this time that Wendy usually made the band stop so Kenny could try again, but no direction came. Instead, DogPoo, looking slightly impressed, grabbed Kenny and yanked him up. “ _Cut the protesting, forget the excuses._ _We want information. Get up off the floor.”_

Token strode confidently to the other side of the stage. “ _We have the papers we need to arrest him. You know his movements. We know the law.”_

DogPoo gave him an encouraging shake. “ _Your help in this matter won’t go unrewarded.”_

Token glanced back and nodded, shaking a finger at Kenny. “ _We'll pay you in silver, cash on the nail. We just need to know where the soldiers can find him.”_

_“With no crowd around him,”_ DogPoo hissed in his ear.

“ _Then we can’t fail_ ,” Token agreed triumphantly.

Kenny pushed DogPoo away angrily. “ _I don’t need your blood money.”_

Token grinned, “ _Oh, that doesn’t matter. Our expenses are good.”_

Kenny’s hands tightened into fists as he ran up the back stairs. “ _I don’t_ want _your blood money.”_

_“But you might as well take it. We think that you should,_ ” DogPoo sang with a slight smirk that Kenny had to admit he was impressed to see.

Token walked back towards Kenny. _“Think of the things you could do with that money, choose any charity - give to the poor. We've noted your motives. We've noted your feelings. This isn't blood money - it's a ...”_

_“A fee,”_ DogPoo supplied.

“ _A fee nothing more,”_ Token finished in a rumbling voice.

Kenny continued to step back, eyes wide as he somehow switched to the angelic plea of a broken man, “ _On Thursday night, you’ll find him where you want him. Far from the crowds, in the Garden of Gethsemane.”_

Token smiled at DogPoo and exited the stage, tossing the bag of coins at Kenny’s feet as he left. The band, sadly filling in for the chorus, sang weakly, “ _Well done, Judas.”_

Kenny scooped up the baggie and put it in his pocket before quickly walking away. _“Good old Judas_. _”_

Kenny, Token and DogPoo reluctantly came back to the center of the stage to face Wendy’s criticisms. Wendy looked begrudgingly impressed. It was the last day before they would start full cast rehearsals, and the leads were expected to have their parts perfectly memorized as the ensemble got infused with the songs.

“Annas, can you sing _a fee nothing more_ with Token at the end? Harmonize but like… deeply, got it?” Wendy said finally, scanning her notes.

“DogPoo,” he corrected automatically and looked to Stan for his advice.

Stan looked as whipped as ever. “Harmonize deeply?” He answered with a shrug.

“Kenny,” Wendy said sharply as she read down her notes, “you’re not getting high enough on your final lines.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow, and Wendy glared at him for noticing the accidental pun.

“Token,” Wendy read. “You need to command the stage more. You’re a leader.

“You’re letting Kenny run around, but you stay rooted in one place,” Butters added. “That’s not fun. Is that fun, Sally?”

“Nope, but I _loved_ Kenny’s choreography,” she added with a grin. “You learn so fast.”

Wendy frowned. “With that in mind, I think we should start again at DogPoo’s first line.”

Kenny nodded weakly as he walked to the side of the stage and got on his knees obediently. Stan played a few measures to start them off, then DogPoo was yanking him by the arm all over again.

It happened five times before Wendy seemed convinced that they had perfected that song. Kenny was a bit impressed by how right Bebe was that this musical had made Wendy anal as fuck.

As people shuffled out of the theater, Kenny caught Wendy by the arm before she had the chance to leave. “Hey, I had some questions about “Superstar” before we left for the day. Do you mind waiting behind?”

Wendy glared down at her arm. “Kenny, I have to direct this whole fucking musical and get all my applications in by December. I don’t really have time, and we’ve barely gotten to “Superstar”.”

“Okay. Fair. You’ve just seemed really stressed. I want to cheer you up. Let me show you?”

Wendy sighed and sat back down in an audience seat. “Go ahead, Kenny.”

Kenny nodded briefly and swung Stan’s borrowed guitar from around his neck. Wendy smirked a little at the obvious pretentiousness. Kenny plucked a few strings awkwardly like he knew this was not his strongest point then tried again with more emphasis. Wendy frowned as he got past the first few notes, and it was clearly not “Superstar”. He opened his mouth to sing something Wendy didn’t look like she recognized, and his heart sank at Stan’s _stupid_ idea for a romantic gesture. Stan had promised writing a song for Wendy was the best move he ever made. Kenny simply didn’t have time to do that.

Wendy was staring at him with eyes wide as he glanced up from the carefully plucked guitar strings to meet her eyes. “ _Wendy, let me in. I want to be your friend. I want to guard your dreams and visions.”_ He grinned at her widely, and she returned it with a faint smile of her own. “ _Just wrap your hands ‘round these velvet limbs and strap your hands cross my engines.”_ Kenny deliberately stared at the ground as he was sure Stan had done before him as he awkwardly tried to play Wendy his overly catchy songs. “ _Will you walk with me out on the wire? Cuz, baby, I’m just a scared and lonely rider, but I gotta know how it feels. I want to know if love is wild. Babe, I want to know if love is real.”_

Wendy’s face broke into a wide smile of understanding that she seemed to be trying to hide, but she met Kenny’s eyes without a trace of annoyance as he growled out, “ _I wanna die with you, Wendy, on the street tonight in an everlasting kiss.”_ He smirked at her, and, for the first time, she really smiled back. “ _Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness. I’ll love you with all the madness in my soul_.”

Wendy was practically jittering in her seat by the time Kenny finished his final, “ _tramps like us – baby, we were born to run.”_ By the time he set the guitar aside, Wendy had grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

“Did Stan give you that dumb an idea?”

Kenny grinned. “No, he told me to play “Shock the Monkey”.”

Wendy laughed loudly and pulled Kenny into a hug. “Thank you. That was actually exactly what I needed today.”

Kenny nodded awkwardly. “It wasn’t hard. I listen to it a lot.”

“It was still really nice,” Wendy assured him. “I appreciate it.”

Kenny reached out to touch her hip, and both of their eyes traveled down to his hand mistrustfully. “I know it hasn’t been that long, but I wanted you to know that I’ve been sober since you told me to. I plan on continuing to be.”

Wendy eyed him speculatively. “This first time I told you was _months_ ago.”

“Maybe years at this point.”

Wendy’s lips curled down. “This is why I fucking hate you, Kenny. I hate that you argue against yourself, and it makes you more lovable. I am very convinced that you are manipulating all of us, and even I’m not smart enough to see how, but I don’t understand why you’ve latched onto _me_.”

Kenny frowned at Wendy as he packed Stan’s guitar back in its bag. “I think you are the smartest, saddest, most stressed out, and prettiest girl at our school. Why would I not latch onto you?” He leaned forward to give her a peck on the lips before stepping back from her and into the aisle.

Wendy tugged him back and pulled him in a deeper kiss, and Kenny’s hands flew off her in surprise until he realized what a dumb shit he was being for wasting this opportunity. He slid his hands down to the small of her back and had almost gotten her lips parted for his tongue, then Wendy pulled back and hid her face in Kenny’s chest.

Her body was shaking, and Kenny registered somewhat hazily that she was crying so his body automatically pulled her into a tighter hug. He was able to realize he liked this just as much when Butters' gigantic and poorly constructed cross, which had been leaning against a wall in a place Butters never should have left it, came crashing down on him.


	13. The Last Supper

The stage was covered with annoyed cast members, who flipped their scripts around and sighed huffily. It had only been a few days since Wendy had started demanding full cast rehearsals so Kenny could, thankfully, disappear into the background and hang out with the underclassmen. He kind of liked the buzzing atmosphere of having all the cast members be in one room. It also allowed him to do exciting things like enter from backstage and interact with people.

_“Look at all my trials and tribulations,”_

Kenny grinned to himself as Stan’s soft guitar picked up. It was pretty hilarious having only one female disciple. Her voice stood out so much. No one was willing to say it, but Kenny would guiltlessly think it. It was like Wendy trying to be in their boy band. There was just something not quite right about a female voice.

_“Sinking in a gentle pool of wine.”_

Tweek stood next to Kenny backstage, watching the disciples sing with pained interest. Each time one underclassman fell out of sync with the performance, they glanced at each other and winced. “Where were you last rehearsal?” Tweek muttered under his breath, bracing himself to enter the fray.

_“Don’t disturb me now.”_

“Dead,” Kenny responded in a flat voice. Tweek did a double take, but Kenny gave him a push forward, and he stumbled onto the stage, almost tripping over his white robes. Wendy scowled, and Tweek nervously fixed an expression of mistrust and doubtfulness on his face as he walking among the disciples.

_“I can see the answers.”_

Kenny had been asked too many times why he had missed his rehearsal for “Damned for All Time”, and he was sick of coming up with excuses. Wendy was sure he had been on some drug binge and forgotten about it. Tweek was worried Kenny was losing his enthusiasm in the world as he went sober. No one else really cared, but the two of them were annoying enough.

_“Till this evening is this morning,”_

The only person he told the truth to was Karen. She had calmed down substantially since their Kyle Discussion, and she was always willing to suspend her disbelief and listen to Kenny. She heard him repeat the Wendy Story a million times, trying her very hardest to believe it had actually happened. Kenny guessed that Karen assumed the stories about him dying would end as soon as he got sober, but nope. Kenny still died. Everyone still forgot.

_“Life is fine.”_

He sighed and cast a dispassionate glance in Wendy’s direction before maneuvering his way onto the stage. His face was cast down in guilt, but he looked at the other disciples scornfully whenever they passed him the wine. Tweek came forward to sit among the disciples, and Kenny stiffened.

_“Always hoped that I’d be an apostle.”_

“Have you all heard of a harmony?” Stan snapped from the orchestra pit. Kenny’s disdain became a lot more real. It was like Stan and Gary played “good band leader, bad band leader” because Gary leaned away from his piano to put a calming hand on Stan’s shoulder. Stan glared at the disciples, but he continued to play without pause.

_“Knew that I would make it if I tried.”_

Kenny choked down a laugh as the eleven voices came out sounding like a barbershop quartet. He dared a glance down to Stan, who looked even angrier that his directions had been taken as a joke. “Guys, seriously!” Wendy snapped from her seat in the audience, and Butters nodded sternly.

_“Then when we retire,”_

Tweek brushed past Kenny, and Kenny instinctively lifted his head to touch the foot of his robe. Legs reclined straight into Kenny’s touch, and Kenny pulled his hand back in pain and annoyance to glance at the perpetrator. Clyde was glaring at Kenny like Kenny had ever done anything in his life to earn the boy’s anger, and Tweek slunk away in shame. Kenny narrowed his eyes at Clyde, and Clyde returned the look. Something was going on with him.

_“We can write the gospels”_

He still held Kenny’s gaze as he sang with the chorus, and Kenny grinned wickedly at him. He didn’t know exactly what he had done, but he knew that he was an immature fuck when it came to having enemies. If Clyde had set himself up to be one of Kenny’s, he would regret it. A small voice in his head said Clyde’s anger had something to do with his friendship with Tweek, and a quick glance at Tweek’s flushed face proved him right.

_“So they’ll still talk about us when we’ve died.”_

_“The end_ ,” Tweek declared in a soft voice, “ _is just a little harder when brought around by friends.”_ He descended the stairs into the mess of disciples and brushed their hair affectionately as he passed. “ _For all you care,”_ he sang in a high voice, “ _this wine could be my blood. For all you care, this bread could be my body_.”

Kenny stared at Tweek with the rest of the cast, and Tweek thrust the bottle of wine into Clyde’s chest. “ _This is my blood you drink. This is my body you eat if you would remember me when you eat and drink,”_ he sang so softly that Kenny, against his character’s will, had to lean in to him.

“ _I must be mad thinking I will be remembered_ ,” Tweek sang suddenly in a much louder voice. “ _Yes, I must be out of my head.”_ He stumbled away from the disciples. “ _Look at your blank faces. My name will mean_ nothing _ten minutes after I’m dead!”_ Tweek pushed his way to the right exit before spinning around in anger. “ _One of you denies me; one of you betrays me!”_

Kenny looked down as the other disciples began shouting their dissents, and Tweek slid across the stage towards him. “ _Peter will deny me,”_ Tweek sang, pointing at Clyde as he kept his eyes on Kenny’s, “ _in just a few hours. Three times will deny me.”_

He broke their gaze to glare at the disciples. “ _And that’s not all I see. One of you here dining, one of my twelve chosen, will leave to betray me!”_

Kenny stood up angrily. “ _Cut out the dramatics! You know very well who.”_ As Craig shifted so a spotlight hit Kenny, Clyde gave him a nudge forward so the lights in his eyes were blinding. Kenny stumbled back for a second, barely registering what had happened until a genuine swell of anger boiled up in his stomach.

If this was something to do with Tweek, Kenny could work with that. They had spent hours screaming these lines at each other in bad glam rock impressions.

Tweek spun around and swung his arms out wildly. _“Why don’t you go do it?”_

Kenny approached him, making sure to get extra close. He couldn’t resist glancing down to catch Clyde’s face in his peripheral vision. Weird fucker. “ _You want me to do it.”_

_“Hurry they’re waiting!”_

Kenny grabbed Tweek firmly by the arms and pulled him even closer. This was probably not great for his chances with Wendy, who was in the audience with Sally and Butters, all looking incredibly surprised and curious. “ _If you knew why I’d do it.”_

_“I don’t care why’d you do it!”_ Tweek pushed him back and scrambled away.

Kenny forced himself to stomach the anger for a second to give Tweek a frosty look and spat, “ _To think I admired you, for now I despise you.”_

_“You liar! You Judas!”_ Tweek had practically returned to his hair-pulling habits as he screamed his lines.

Kenny approached again, prodding at Tweek’s chest. “ _You want me to do it! What if I just stayed here and ruined your ambition? Christ, you deserve it!”_

Tweek slapped at his hand. “ _Hurry you fool; hurry and go. Save me your speeches – I don’t want to know. Go!”_ He screeched the last word like a dying animal, effectively making Kenny’s hairs stand on end.

_“Look at all my trials and tribulations, sinking in a gentle pool of wine. What’s that in the bread? It’s gone to my head. Til this morning is this evening, life is fine. Always hoped that I’d be an apostle. Knew that I could make it if I tried. Then when we retire, we can write the gospels so they’ll all talk about us when we’ve died.”_ The disciples crowded Tweek, running their hands over him in a calming manner as Kenny stomped away from the masses.

Kenny stood there for a second, shaking with rage both manufactured in order to impress Wendy to the fullest and directed at Clyde for his strange choice of a target. Then, he rounded on Tweek, and the other disciples stepped back warily. “ _You sad, pathetic man. See what you’ve brought us to! Our ideals die around us, and all because of you.”_

Kenny pointed at Tweek accusingly, _“And now the saddest cut of all is someone had to turn you in like a common criminal, like a wounded animal. A jaded mandarin. A jaded mandarin. Yes, a jaded, jaded, faded, jaded, jaded mandarin.”_ Kenny had to mentally count the word “jaded” to make sure he didn’t over- or undershoot it like usual.

Tweek pointed at the exit, stumbling back into his disciples. _“Get out they’re waiting! Get out! Get out they’re waiting for you!”_

Kenny slouched to the exit. He stood with his back to Tweek for a second, then he slowly raised his head and sang clearly, _“Every time I look at you, I don’t understand why you let the things you did get so out of hand.”_ Kenny rested his hand on the side of the exit and let his head drop forward. _“You’d have managed better if you had it planned.”_ He exited with a wail of _“Oh!”_

The disciples all continued to sing calmly, beginning to take positions of rest on the stage. _“Look at all my trials and tribulations, sinking in a gentle pool of wine. Don’t disturb me now. I can see the answers. Til this morning is this evening, life is fine. Always hoped that I’d be an apostle. Knew that I could make it if I tried. Then when we retire, we can write the gospels so they’ll all talk about us when we’ve died.”_

Tweek stood in the center of the stage as the lights dimmed. He looked around his friends mournfully. _“Will no one stay awake with me? Peter, John, James?”_ His voice cracked, tears welling up in his eyes that made Kenny’s face contort with impressed surprise. _“Will none of you wait with me? Peter, John, James?”_

The last eerie note hung in the air, then Kenny clapped his hands inappropriately and bounced out from backstage. “I thought we killed it!”

Wendy shook her head like some spell had been broken. “Yes. It was very, um, realistic?”

“Intense,” Sally agreed.

“Really gay,” Butters piped up. To Kenny’s chagrin, Wendy and Sally reluctantly nodded.

Clyde snorted. “It was the gayest thing in a muslcal since… ah, someone supply me with a reference here!” He looked around helplessly.

“Kenny and Tweek’s last rehearsal?” Nichole suggested in a voice tinged with laughter. Clyde snapped a glare in her direction. “We all knew this was a homoerotic musical going in.”

“I never said _anything_ about that!” Wendy snapped. “Sit on the stage. All of you.”

Kenny rolled his eyes and glanced around for Tweek to sit with, but he had already been claimed by Clyde. He sauntered over to Nichole, who eyed him warily but didn’t move away. “Okay. I don’t think I did anything gayer than Sally’s choreography,” Kenny said finally.

“My choreography had you about a foot farther apart at all times,” Sally responded sharply. “I get it. You’re eager to betray Tweek with a kiss. Don’t blame it on _my_ choreography.”

“We just do that on the cheek,” Tweek said in a weak voice. Clyde dropped his head forward. Craig emerged from the side door and joined the two of them on the stage. Kenny’s nose crinkled automatically in disgust. He’d forgotten that Craig was doing lighting. That made Clyde’s anger _so_ much more understandable.

It also meant it wasn’t about Tweek, and Kenny had been really, really gay with Jesus for no reason. “You know,” he announced loudly. “I see where I might have gone wrong. It was definitely too gay. I’ll dial it down.”

Craig looked at him sharply, and Kenny was very certain that his theory was correct. Tweek was barely looking at Kenny. That had been a stupid assumption.

“Okay,” Wendy sighed. “You’re going to have to do it again.”

“Are we sure we don’t want to go with hints of Judas being in love with Jesus?” Kenny asked in a very serious voice as he uncomfortably pushed himself to his feet. “It could be a nice twist.”

Wendy’s mouth was a straight line. “Jesus is in love with Mary.”

“No. _Mary_ is in love with Jesus. Jesus has friend zoned Mary. Because this is a gay musical. And he has feelings for Judas.” Kenny could barely stop laughter from popping out at every word. Wendy just looked angrier and angrier.

“Let’s go with the interpretation we had, Kenny,” Wendy said in a controlled voice, and a quick laugh escaped Kenny’s lips.

“I’m an actor. I feel my character. Let me feel my way into this man’s dark soul.”

“Kenny, what the fuck? Are you high?” Wendy looked ready to call the rehearsal off immediately. Kenny immediately straightened his face.

“No, sorry, we’ll stick with Jesus and Mary. I get it. It seems that, even though gay people have made a lot of advances in the past few years-.”

“Kenny, shut the fuck up,” Wendy burst out. “You’re so full of shit. Do your fucking role the way Sally and I crafted him. You can’t just make him whomever you want.”

Kenny held up his hands and stepped backstage, holding Wendy’s stare the whole way. The entire cast, in an effort to diffuse the tension, scrambled into their positions for the beginning of the song as fast as possible. Stan was playing guitar before Kenny had gotten fully backstage.

Kenny’s body buzzed with anticipation all throughout rehearsal. Kenny did not sit idly by and get attacked by other students. Kenny took the fight to them. Especially if those students happened to be privileged, overly apathetic dunces who thought a virginity meant Kenny owed him three fat heifers and his hand in marriage.

He was taking the fight to Craig Tucker.

It wasn’t hard. Craig was up in the lighting booth all rehearsal, so Kenny was able to corner him in the short stairwell after dashing out of rehearsal. “Call off Clyde,” Kenny snapped.

Craig flinched back like he wasn’t expecting to see Kenny this close. “What?”

“I said call off Clyde. That little bitch was targeting me all rehearsal, and I couldn’t figure out why until I remembered he’s _your_ friend.”

Craig snorted and zipped his bag shut. “If you think I give that many fucks about you, Kenny, you’re sorely mistaken. Clyde does as Clyde does.”

“Cut the apathetic act. I do it too, and it looks better on me.”

Craig flipped his backpack on. “If I had to hazard a guess, I would say it’s because our _beloved_ friend Tweek was fucking corrupted by you, and now he sleeps the night even less than before. _You_ don’t care about the damage you’ve left behind. Clyde does, apparently.”

“Ah, so this is about Tweek,” Kenny responded with a cheeky smile. He was _so_ good at reading people’s feelings. Jesus Christ. “You’re mad because he’d rather be my friend?”

“You turned him into a barred out stoner then ripped that away. I highly doubt Tweek still wants to be your friend.”

Kenny grinned nastily. “He _does_ , though. He still wants to be my friend, Craig.”

“Contrary to previous thought, charisma does not shoot out of your ass.”

Kenny winked. “It kind of does. It’s cute you’re jealous, though. And so sweet of Clyde to defend you guys like that! Was he keeping Tweek away from me because Tweek likes me more than you?”

Craig didn’t respond, and Kenny’s eyes widened. He had expected to send petty taunts. He didn’t mean to stumble on the source of all Craig’s anger. He had, though, and he might as well work with it. “If you, or Clyde, or Token, or anyone else desperate enough to be friends with you touches me again, I will take Tweek away.”

Craig’s expression quickly morphed from surprise to anger. “You don’t have the ability to do that.”

Kenny grinned. If he had to die and lose his shot with Wendy, some other people could handle a little suffering right now. Kenny could definitely handle a little distraction. “Watch me.”

He spun around and practically sprinted down the stairs before Craig could follow him. Kenny was out of breath by the time he reached the changing room and luckily found Tweek just as he finished tugging on his shirt. “Tweek,” Kenny panted in what would have sounded like a warm voice if he weren’t wheezing from the effort of moving that fast. He had fucked his lungs into oblivion.

Tweek looked at him with completely open curiosity, and Kenny’s heart already thumped triumphantly. “Yeah, Kenny?”

“Wanna go get high at my place?”


	14. Gethsemane (I Only Want To Say)

Craig found Tweek before rehearsal that day. Tweek was currently nursing a vicious hangover and the bad decisions that inevitably follow such a decision, and he was in no mood to deal with Craig’s constant irritation at the world. It was the orchestration of Tweek’s only important song today, and he could barely handle that stress. Craig didn’t need to lay on any additional stress.

“Hey, dude,” Craig greeted him remarkably shyly. It was hard for Tweek to keep himself from blurting out _I slept with Kenny_ in the face of so much openness.

But Tweek would never blurt that out.

“Hi, Craig,” he greeted warmly.

Craig buried his hands in his pockets. “Um, good luck today? I’m excited to see you perform.”

“I’ve done this song a million and one times. Wendy is a slave driver.”

Craig grinned. “Yeah, but I haven’t seen it.”

_Please don’t have signed up for lighting because of me_. “It’s not that impressive. Judas gets better songs than me.”

“I listened to a recording of this one. I’m really excited to hear you do it. Don’t downplay the moment.”

Tweek was very confused if not incredibly put off by this display of kindness and support. Wasn’t Craig supposed to hate the musical? When did he stop? It was much easier not to feel bad for him when he wasn’t even putting in any effort to be included. Now that he had put in that effort, Tweek just felt a huge swell of guilt.

Kenny had asked him if he knew Craig had feelings for him.

Tweek had said yes.

He didn’t need to hear it out loud.

“Thank you, Craig,” he said in a hurried voice. “I should get to rehearsal. The band gets really mad when they’re forced to spend extra time with Wendy.”

Craig nodded in complete understanding. “Of course. Go kill it.”

Tweek smiled weakly as Craig turned away from him and exited the theater to get up to the light box. He glanced around the auditorium sadly. This was a lonely song. He felt Wendy, Sally, and Butters all staring at him intently as he climbed up to the stage and stood in the middle of it for instructions.

The band kids were all whispering to each other before Tweek appeared. Gary appeared to be red-faced laughing at something Stan had said, but they all immediately sobered up when Tweek got on stage.

“Ready to do it with music?” Wendy asked carefully.

Tweek saluted her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

At the back of the theater, the door opened quietly, and Kenny slipped into a seat in the back. He smiled encouragingly at Tweek, and _that_ didn’t feel suffocating. Tweek moved to the stairs and sat down in his final position from _The Last Supper_.

The lights in the theater dimmed and a spotlight hit Tweek. He glanced up to meet Craig’s eyes in the lighting booth, wincing internally as he saw the clear interest on his face even at such a distance.

“Tweek, do you want to start at the end of the last song without music? The orchestra will play you in for “Gethsemane”.”

Did it really matter what Tweek wanted to do? He would do whatever Wendy told him he had to. The spotlight on him dimmed with hues of blue, and Tweek glanced around the stage, gulping as he began to sing without any music to hide his flaws.

“ _Will no one stay awake with me?”_ He asked in a broken voice, barely singing. “ _Peter, John, James?”_ Tweek let his head roll back on his neck and closed his eyes. “ _Will none of you wait with me? Peter, John… James.”_

He let his head drop as the music slowly started. Perfect. Now he didn’t have to make eye contact with anyone. “ _I only want to say_.” He turned his head away so the light caught his sharp jaw bone, but he refused to look up. “ _If there is a way, take this cup away from me_.” Tweek choked on a sob. “ _For I don’t want to taste its poison. Feel it burn me.”_

Tweek let his eyes travel upwards as a mixture of silver light and smoke made an ethereal cloud around his feet. Sally described this as staring into the heavens, but it felt more like staring at Craig. “ _I have changed. I’m not as sure as when we started.”_

He steadied his gaze to meet Kenny’s eyes in the back. They were bloodshot, and he was probably stoned, but he smiled wildly. “ _Then I was inspired,”_ Tweek whispered, silent tears flooding down his face. “ _Now I’m sad and tired.”_

His gaze abruptly snapped up to the lighting booth. Or, as Sally put it, God. “ _Listen,”_ he snapped, “ _surely I’ve exceeded expectations.”_ He let his eyes drift downwards slowly, raking the walls of the theater. “ _Tried for three years. Seems like thirty.”_

Tweek’s eyes hit the stairs, and he pushed himself off them firmly. “ _Could you ask as much of any other man?_ ”

Tweek stumbled forwards. “ _But if I die_ ,” he sang slowly, letting every word roll off his tongue, “ _see the saga through and do the things you ask of me.”_ He spread his arms out at his sides like he was already being crucified. “ _Let them hate me, hit me, hurt me, nail me to their tree!”_

He dropped his arms and began furiously pacing the stage. “ _I'd want to know_ ; _I'd want to know, my_ God. _I'd want to know_ ; _I'd want to know, my_ God _.”_ Tweek crouched over and pulled on his hair in frustration, practically screaming the word “God”. “ _I'd want to see_ ; _I'd want to see, my God_. _I'd want to see_ ; _I'd want to see, my God,_ w _hy I should die.”_ Tweek stared at the sky again for answers. “ _Would I be more noticed_ t _han I ever was before?_ _Would the things I've said and done_ _matter any more?”_

Between Kenny, Bebe, and Tweek, Sally knew which lead could dance. Tweek had watched Kenny practically doing flips on stage during “Superstar”. Bebe and Tweek simply, for the most part, had to sway in time with their songs. This, unfortunately, was the most intricate dancing Tweek had to do as he spun across the stage in wide kicks, practically shouting his lyrics to combat the breathlessness of the dancing.

“ _I'd have to know_. _I'd have to know, my Lord_. _I'd have to know_. _I'd have to know, my Lord_. _I'd have to see_. _I'd have to see, my Lord_. _I'd have to see_. _I'd have to see, my Lord.”_ Tweek’s movements got more frantic, and he didn’t have time to break his focus to stare at Sally for her approval. “ _If I die what will be my reward?_ _If I die what will be my reward?_ _I'd have to know_. _I'd have to know, my Lord. I'd have to know_. _I'd have to know, my Lord_ ,” Tweek took a deep breath and prepared himself for a bone-shattering falsetto, “ _why should I die?”_

His eyes scanned the audience, and his preoccupied brain had just enough time to register the large smile on Kenny’s face before Tweek let anger subsume his exhaustion. “ _Can you show me now that I would not be killed in vain?”_ He screeched. “ _Show me just a little of your omnipresent brain!”_

He ran forward, throwing his arms outward as he closed his eyes and let his head loll back on his shoulders. He couldn’t handle any more eye contact right now. “ _Show me there’s a reason for you wanting me to die! You’re far too keen on where and how and not so hot on why.”_

Tweek paused and stared through the light on him up into Craig’s booth as he whispered the fateful words, “ _Alright. I'll die.”_ His eyes snapped down to the ground. “ _Just watch me die! See how, see how I die!”_ Tweek took a huge breath in, bracing himself as his voice was cast out of his body at inhumanely high notes, “ _Oh, just watch me die!”_

Tweek dropped to his knees, chest heaving as his eyes finally stopped watering enough to take in Wendy and Sally’s expression. The orchestra kept banging until slowly it transformed into just Gary’s piano. “ _Then I was inspired_. _Now I'm sad and tired_. _After all I've tried for three years_. _Seems like ninety_. _Why then am I scared_ t _o finish what I started_.” He pushed himself up to his knees to stare at the heavens accusingly, “ _What you started_. _I didn't start it.”_

_“God, thy will is hard,”_ Tweek climbed unsteadily to his feet as his voice rose again, _“but you hold every card. I will drink your cup of poison, nail me to your cross and break me, bleed me, beat me. Kill me, take me now.”_ He paused for a second and sucked in a deep breath. He had just enough time to faintly wonder if this what Danny Phantom felt like when he used his Ghostly Wail when he screeched, _“Now - before I change my mind.”_

 Tweek stopped as the music continued to crash down, doubling over in pain and waiting for this horrible song to end.

That was mean. It wasn’t the song’s fault.

At the end, he straightened his spine and trained his eyes on Wendy’s. She, for the first time since this musical had begun, looked excited with no caveat. Her eyes were ablaze with excitement, and she was slightly flushed. “Tweek,” she breathed out. “That was _perfect_.”

Sally nodded in awestruck silence.

“So that it for the day, then?” David asked happily. “I think we’ve got our take.”

Stan glared at him before Wendy got a chance to. “This is a musical. Not a movie. We need to practice things more than once.”

“Tweek _obviously_ knows it,” David pled.

“We rehearse until those tears are real,” Wendy insisted. “Tweek, get back in place.”

In the back of the theater, Kenny pushed himself up. He flashed Tweek a smile before disappearing out the back door of the theater. That was fair. Tweek knew Kenny’s policy on hearing a song more than once.

It was halfway through the next rehearsal that Tweek knew something was wrong. He stood up, and the lighting didn’t change with him. The lighting stayed steady for the rest of the song, and he caught Wendy peering up at the lighting booth to see what was happening.

Now that Tweek thought about it more, he didn’t really want to know what was happening.

When he finished his second round, and the orchestra died down, the lighting did not stop. Craig was effectively distracted.

Then Tweek winced as, in the silence that inevitably followed a try, two voices could be heard arguing.

_“Do you just go around and try to make everyone else’s life as awful as yours?”_

_“My life is great. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_“Fuck off, Kenny. I know you. You take all your anger out on the world, and you’re doing it again because you can’t-.”_

_“_ I _take all my anger out on the world? Craig… you suck. You just fucking suck. I had no idea how much anger a person could contain before I met you.”_

There was a loud crunch of a fist colliding with something, and then shrill laughter that Tweek identified as Kenny’s echoed in the theater. Through the laughter, Kenny cursed him in a voice dripping with humor.

Wendy’s jaw was tight as she sat in her seat and listened to the conversation. “This is so unprofessional,” she muttered, pushing herself up from her seat and stomping upstairs.

Tweek sank down with his head between his knees as the voices continued.

_“Why are you laughing? Do you have any idea how fucked up you seem?”_

_“You’ve just threatened me so many times… that’s hilarious. Good for you, buddy.”_

_“You’re a condescending dick.”_

_“Only when I have someone to condescend to- Wendy!”_ Kenny’s voice sounded horribly startled by her appearance in the lighting box. They may have thought they were being quiet, but Wendy’s authoritative voice rang out for Tweek and all the audience.

“Stop fighting on _my_ time. Kenny, you aren’t even _in_ this song. Get the fuck out.”

“Aw, are you taking Craig’s side? Did he tell you he hit me?”

“Thank you very much, Craig. You’re doing a public service.”

“Fucking cold, Testaburger.”

“Get the hell out, McCormick.” Tweek’s ears pricked up as a door opened and shut. Wendy apologized softly to Craig then she reappeared in the theater. “No one who isn’t integral to the song is welcome in rehearsals anymore,” she announced loudly.

Tweek glanced up at the lighting box, but there was no movement. Craig sat still as a statue with his head buried in his hands. Tweek could barely look away from him as Wendy attempted to take control of the situation again.

Just as Tweek was about to duck his head down for another go, Craig looked up quickly. His eyes met with Tweek’s, and Tweek felt his hair rising on his arms as Craig stared at him with deadened eyes and mouthed _fuck you_.


	15. The Arrest

**Attempt One**

Kenny loved when the whole cast had rehearsal together. Well, basically the whole cast. He always missed Kyle, but the boy had a very different rehearsal schedule. Kenny just loved when the bleachers were packed to the brim with stars and chorus members. No one ever gave Wendy more shit than when they out-numbered her.

Giving Wendy shit appeared to be Kenny’s only source of frustration. He had thought tormenting Craig would be fun, but it just proved unfulfilling. Plus, Kenny had stopped being sober so there went that plan.

Kenny barely realized he had been staring at Wendy, caught up in his thoughts about what could have happened, when all the chorus members started to move around him. Tweek, much to Kenny’s discomfort, took his hand and lead him to the center of the stage with him. Kenny still felt like he was walking in a dream when he stepped back respectfully and made eye contact with Stan, who counted down silently from three, until Kenny could burst out from backstage. “ _There he is. They’re all asleep. The fools.”_

Kenny approached, and Tweek wrapped his hand around the back of Tweek’s neck to bring Kenny’s forehead to the side of Tweek’s head as his lips brushed against Tweek’s cheek. Tweek shook with silent sobs, and for a second, Kenny was really worried he’d gotten to the kid, then he realized Tweek was just a much better actor than he was as he sang out in a broken voice, “ _Judas, must you betray me with a kiss?”_

Tweek pulled Kenny into a tighter hug, and Kenny, against Sally’s advice, buried his head in Tweek’s shoulder until he heard Clyde’s nasally voice ring out, “ _What’s the buzz? Tell me what’s happening.”_ again and again until his arms came between them to force Kenny away, and the confused chorus members playing guards finally apprehended Tweek.

“Kenny, why do you insist on changing your choreography?” Wendy snapped, gesturing for the band to quiet down. “This doesn’t have to be a gay musical!”

“That one was Tweek, not me,” Kenny tattled.

Wendy frowned at Tweek, who glanced at the ground. “I thought it showed good emotion.”

“You can show emotion on your own. Kenny kisses you and steps back.”

Sally, dear Sally, cleared her throat. “Actually, I kind of liked that better. Could the guards pull Kenny off instead of Clyde?”

Wendy glared at her. “You’re not the director.”

“Well, no, but I did block everything else. I liked Tweek’s change.”

Kenny smirked over at Tweek, who puffed his chest out proudly.

Wendy sighed. “Sure! Since all you guys seem so intent on making this a gay musical, let’s just make this a gay musical!”

“There is nothing gay about two straight men crying in each other’s arms and kissing a little,” Kenny said, completely straight-faced.

Wendy shook him off. “Okay. Try it again with the new blocking. Casey, can you pull Kenny away and push him to the back of the stage?”

“I can definitely do that, Wendy,” Casey replied in his news anchor voice that made Kenny, in that moment, want to smush his face in.

Wendy snapped a glare in Kenny’s direction. “Then, after that, you hang out at the back of the stage and look distraught. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

**Attempt Two**

Had Tweek’s addition been that weird? Sally seemed to like it, even if Wendy didn’t. It just kind of helped him show that emotion to have Kenny right there. He could understand why she thought Jesus and Judas were getting a little too gay, though. He understood, but he didn’t really care.

Casey pulled Kenny back and pushed him away, and guards began to swarm Tweek. Behind them, the disciples joined in with Clyde, promising to fight for him as they danced around lamely and drew various weapons.

Tweek was, as a whole, not impressed with this chorus.

“ _Put away your sword,”_ Tweek commanded loudly as a tenth grader tied his hands behind his back. “ _Don’t you know that it’s all over? It was nice, but now it’s gone. Why are you obsessed with fighting? Stick to fishing from now on.”_

The rest of the chorus crept on stage. Red forced her way through the crowd to extend a microphone to Tweek. “ _Tell me, Christ, how you feel tonight.”_

“ _Do you plan to put up a fight?”_

_“Do you feel that you’ve had the breaks?”_

_“What would you say were your big mistakes?”_

“God, dammit!” Wendy screamed, and the musicians fell silent again. “Nichole, the disciples do _not_ dance with the mob! Do you see what all the other disciples are doing? Get the hint that maybe you should be doing that, too?”

Tweek froze, heart bursting with gratitude that he hadn’t been the one to face Wendy’s rage yet. She was _not_ in a good mood that day. Tweek would perform the best he ever had if it meant avoiding the swift blade of Wendy’s criticisms.

“And the mob isn’t the least bit believable! How can I have fifty people on stage right now, and it barely looks like a clusterfuck? Grab at him! Interrogate him! Guards, rough him around a little! Disciples, try to break through the crowd! Jesus, you guys!”

Kenny snorted.

“Let’s start at the arrival of the guards, and I want to believe that Jesus is being swarmed by mob mentality, okay?”

Tweek groaned as Red gave him a firm shake to show she had gotten the message. Wendy stared at the chorus, completely unimpressed, and nodded for them to take position. She didn’t look like she expected them to get much right.

Kenny moved towards Tweek and pulled him into a hug. For a second, Tweek was elated, then he realized this was their blocking for before the guards arrived. He allowed himself the chance to clutch Kenny into his chest tightly and breath in his air.

On cue, tears sprung up in Tweek’s eyes, and the music began again.

**Attempt Three**

Red was given the chance to hang out backstage as she hid behind a curtain and watched the disciples beginning to defend Jesus. She wasn’t such a stickler about her cue, but Bebe had been invited to the rehearsal for a cameo, however brief, at the end of the song, and she was the haunting of the backstage area as far as Red was concerned.

A hand pinched her hip quickly, and Red turned around warily.

“Bebe.”

She had a glowing smile on her face, and, for a second, Red could believe that people would model Mary after her. She could see oil paintings of her at Jesus’s feet. Red cursed at her thoughts inwardly for not taking her side.

“Hi! We never have rehearsals together! This’ll be so fun.”

Red eyed her suspiciously but forced a toothy smile onto her face. “I thought I told you not to talk to me anymore.”

“Well, I mean, we’re in the same musical.”

Red cocked an eyebrow. “You said it yourself. We do not have overlapping roles. Maybe that’s a sign from God himself that I _don’t want you to hang out with me_.”

Bebe sighed and shook her head. “You’re going to regret doing this someday, Red. You were my best friend.”

“Really? Mine was Jenny.”

Bebe’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t be petty.”

Red grinned. “What’s petty about the excuse? Now, if you’d excuse me,” she allowed herself to get swept away in the chorus racing to the stage. She could barely keep her balance in the mass of bodies, so she was guessing Wendy had gotten the mob she was hoping for.

In what Red hoped was a graceful gesture, the mob released him and fell into a synchronized dance as they bent their knees and circled Tweek menacingly.

“ _Come with us to see Caiaphas. You’ll just love the High Priest’s house. You’ll just love seeing Caiaphas. You’ll just_ die _in the High Priest’s house.”_

Red winced as an overly zealous sophomore boy pushed past her for his solo in their return to the mob. She had heard from Jenny that most of the underclassmen boys were in love with either Wendy or Bebe. It depended, according to Jenny, on which of the boys had mommy issues.

This boy, apparently, did, because he burst out in a clearly fake low voice, “ _Come on, God, this is not like you_.”

Still, other boys clambered over him, and Red really didn’t want to believe they were all driven by the desire to impress Wendy. Worse was the thought they were doing it all to impress Bebe. “ _Let us know what you’re gonna do.”_

_“You know what your supporters feel!”_ An eager freshman sang weakly as he bobbed at Tweek’s side, desperately fighting to stay above the crowd.

Jenny Simon dragged him back so she was in Tweek’s path. “ _You’ll escape in the final reel.”_

“Jenny and Matthew, switch lines right there,” Wendy called out. “Jenny’s line should be in the deeper voice.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow warningly. “You want us to do this all _again_ just because the two of us should switch lines?”

“No. I want you to do it all again because it sucked. As a side note, the two of you should switch lines. Now make me fucking believe that mob!”

**Attempt Four**

Token paced back and forth backstage as DogPoo and Bridon watched sympathetically. He didn’t know when those two had become his friends, but somewhere along having a million rehearsals together, they had to.

“Kenny will back off Tweek in like a week,” Bridon assured him. “I’ve dated _so many_ of Kenny’s ex’s. He’s not around to stay.”

Token shot him a glance to remind Bridon he was sneaking in humble brags again when he spoke. “It’s not about when Kenny will back off! Craig and Tweek are going to be permanently damaged by this, and my whole friend group is going to be Clyde!”

DogPoo winced like this was a horrible fate, and Token grinned. The kid had learned how to joke. It was like seeing a baby animal learn how to stand watching DogPoo learn how to navigate the social world. He was doing, in Token’s opinion, an excellent job of it.

“Why don’t you choose one friend or the other?” DogPoo asked, and Token almost laughed at his lack of social grace.

“Craig and Tweek aren’t mad at each other. Well, they are, but that’s not really the biggest issue at hand. The biggest issue at hand is that-.”

Bridon held up a finger for them to pause. “ _Come with us to see Caiaphas! You’ll just love the High Priest’s house. You’ll just love seeing Caiaphas. You’ll just die in the High Priest’s house.”_

DogPoo motioned for them to work their way on stage, and Token finished, angry he hadn’t been given time to fully finish his rant before they actually got to his part in the song.

“ _Now we have him! Now we got him! Now we have him! Now we got him! Now we have him! Now we got him! Now we have him now! We have got him now.”_

Token straightened out the sleeves off his shirt and looked the dismal Tweek over with dangerous energy. “ _Jesus, you must realize the serious charges facing you.”_ He grabbed Tweek’s head by the hair and pulled it back. “ _You say you’re the son of God in all your handouts. Well, is it true?”_

_“That’s what you say! You say that I am!”_ Tweek forced out breathlessly, and Token tossed him back into a guard’s arms as DogPoo strode confidently to address the guards.

“ _There you have it gentleman,”_ he sang in that snake-like voice that continually impressed Token, “ _What more evidence do we need?”_ DogPoo glanced back at Kenny and smiled nastily, and Kenny stiffened with horror. “ _Judas, thank you for the victim.”_

Token and DogPoo both grabbed Kenny by a shoulder and shook him. “ _Stay awhile and you’ll see him bleed!”_ They finished together.

“ _Now we have him! Now we got him! Now we have him! Now we got him! Now we have him now! We have got him now!”_

DogPoo motioned for them to exit again, and Token and Bridon followed after him quickly.

Backstage, Token breathed out in relief. “Thank God we weren’t targets, you guys.”

Bridon widened his eyes emphatically and nodded. “I don’t want to be the one to say it, but I think I have to be. She is _definitely_ on her period.”

DogPoo sighed in relief. “Good. I didn’t want to be the one to say that either.”

“You guys are being stupid. Girls don’t really lose their shit on their periods.”

“ _CUT. CUT, YOU FUCKERS. YOUR SAVIOR IS BEING TAKEN TO HIS DEATH, AND I DON’T SEE ANY CONCERN ON ANYONE’S FACE EXCEPT KENNY’S.”_

Token sighed. “So she didn’t prove my point? Learn some feminism, guys.”

**Attempt Five**

Stan was not having the best time. It hadn’t been his week, and he was tired of not seeing Kenny and Kyle. At least with them he didn’t have confusing feelings about his friends that ruined his life.

It had all started out so innocently. Gary thought that Stan was shallow so Stan had demonstrated how not shallow it was. David had assured him it was a good idea. That was why Stan was so sick of his band friends. He had asked out Lisa Berger. It would prove he wasn’t shallow and distract him from the weird feelings that made seeing Gary so terrible.

Lisa Berger had turned him down.

She said she thought he was probably gay.

Stan smashed his guitar angrily, giving little attention to the likelihood that he might strike the wrong chords, and Gary glanced over at him in puzzled annoyance. He motioned for Stan to cut it out.

“Before Wendy gets mad,” Gary mouthed, and Stan nodded obediently. That was a very good point. Today was not the day to piss off Wendy.

It got worse, though. David must’ve let Stan’s plan slip to Gary because, in Gary’s words, it made Stan even more superficial than he thought. He was just lucky Gary was still talking to him.

But who was he kidding? Gary was too nice to ever cut someone out, and he had a job to do with Stan. He wouldn’t put his responsibilities behind a petty grievance even if part of Stan really didn’t want to see him anymore.

He had done this fucking song so many times that he barely noticed when the music began to pick up for the end. It was all mechanical at this point, but there it was. The chorus was demanding, “ _Take him to Pilate!”_ , and Tweek was being forced off the stage.

Stan only played one extra chord before he finished up in time with his bandmates. They all snapped their heads to glare at him, and he froze. They waited, holding their breath, for Wendy to notice Stan’s mistake, but she thankfully called out Kenny’s name to come forward.

“Let’s start from the top,” she said serenely. Stan wondered if she had been doing some deep breathing exercises in the audience as they sang.

It was weird that even the name Pilate would make Stan miss Kyle, but, by the end of rehearsal, he was sure he needed to see his friends again. Unfortunately, Kyle wouldn’t have a rehearsal for another week, and Stan was in _none_ of his A.P. courses, so he’d settle for the friend he could get: Kenny.

He tailed that pink sweatshirt out of the theater after rehearsal, but he couldn’t catch up with Kenny in time for him to escape up the stairs to the lighting box. Stan approached curiously. Was Kenny doing something with Craig again? Why did he have the feeling Kenny was doing something with Tweek? Or Bebe? Or fucking anyone other than Craig?

He leaned towards the door, pressing his forehead against it. Kenny’s voice was a lot softer than it usually was, and Stan could barely hear it.

“ _The way to get back at me isn’t to be mad at Tweek. I… did something wrong. I regret it. I don’t want to ruin whatever thing you had going on.”_

Stan spun around and walked carefully back down the stairs. He approached David and Lola, not at all bored of his band friends anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Cast List:
> 
> Jesus Christ - Tweek Tweak  
> Judas Iscariot - Kenny McCormick  
> Peter - Clyde Donovan  
> Mary Magdalene - Bebe Stevens  
> Simon Zealotes - Red  
> Caiaphas - Token Black  
> Annas - DogPoo Petuski  
> Pontius Pilate - Kyle Broflovski  
> King Herod - Eric Cartman
> 
> Other characters have roles as apostles, priests or general ensemble.


End file.
